-NRLF 


B    3    3E7 


./  > 


•  •  •  •.  • 


RNEST#THOMBSON<80ETON 


GIFT   OF 
A.   F.    Morrison 


v 


Copyright,  1903,  1904,  by 
The  Century  Co. 

Copyright,  1905,  by 
Ernest  Thompson  Seton 


Published  April,  1905 


First 

Impression 

April 

15, 

1905 


GIFT  OF 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS 


In 


M95642 


s  ; 


\ 


In  this  Book  the  designs  for  cover, 
title-page,  and  general 
make-up  were  done  by 
Grace  Gallatin  Seton 


r , 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


LIST  OF  FULL-PAGE  DRAWINGS 

* 

Page 

1  Mi-in-gan,  Mus-wa,  Mai-kwa      ...  33 

2  Kalendar  of  the  Seton  Indians   ...  80 

3  Kalendar  of  the  Seton  Indians       ...  81 

4  The  Awakening  Days     .....  89 

5  Breaking  the  Over-bowl     .....  97 

6  The  Smoking-days 107 

7  The  Demon  Dance        117 

8  Appetite  and  Food     .     ...     .     .  125 

9  The  Brook  Brownie 165 

10    The  Great  Stag      .     .  ' 174 


* 


CONTENTS 

A 

Page 

List  of  Full-page  Drawings      .......  7 

Foreword 11 

The  Collector  of  Lies 13 

The  Land-crab 16 

The  Cure  of  the  Gulper    ........  18 

How  the  Giraffe  Became .•     ;  23 

Three  Lords  and  a  Little  Lord    ......  30 

The  Ten  Trails 36 

Where  Truth  Lives 39 

The  Twin  Stars 40 

The  Two  Log-rollers .  4\ 

The  Converted  Soap-boiler 42 

The  Wise  Woodchuck 46 

The  Fairy  Lamps 48 

The  Scatterationist   . 53 

The  Point  of  View .  57 

The  Origin  of  the  Bluebird     .......  60 


- 


. 

^AijMu  w  /       Jgl  IK  iJ 

r  '  *  --  - 


CONTENTS  •:?'• 

^ 

Page 

The  Gitch-e  O-kok-o-hoo    .     .  64      ^ 

The  Sunken  Rock  .  67  - 

Dogwood     *     .     ..........  68 

The  Three  Phoebes  of  Wyndygoul  .....  70    \ 

The  Road  to  Fairyland  ........  78 

Comfort     ..........  79        j 

Kalendar  of  the  Seton  Indians  ......  80 

Kalendar  of  the  Seton  Indians     ......  81 

The  Seasons  on  Chaska-water  ^ 

The  Awakening  Days  ........  83 

The  Thunder-bird  .........  91^ 

The  Smoking-days   .........  101 

The  Demon  Dance     ........  1  09 

The  Indian  and  the  Angel  of  Commerce    .     .     .  118 

A  Recipe     ............  121       * 

The  Big  Rough  Statue       .....  ....122 

Appetite  and  Food     ..........  125 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


CONTENTS 
/? 

Page 

The  Fairy  Ponies 126 

Witches' Luck 127 

The  Fable  of  the  Yankee  Crab 1 28 

The  Bullfrog  fills  his  little  throat 1  30 

Up  to  Date 131 

The  Grasshopper  that  Made  the  Missimo  Valley  1  34 

A  Knotty  Problem 137 

The  Single  Way 138 

A  Fable  for  Architects      .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .  140 

The  Feather  and  the  Frump     ......  142 

Familiar  Sayings 143 

Purple  Finch ,     ,  1 44 

Veery  and  Solomon's  Seal 145 

The  Fretful  Porcupine 1 46 

How  the  Chestnut  Burrs  Became 147 

An  Explanation 1 49 

The  Heaven-sent  Skunk 1  50 

The  Doings  of  a  Little  Fib  ...'....  152 

TheWendigo     ...........  1 61 

The  Saving  Warmth 1  62 

The  Myth  of  the  Song-sparrow  .     .     .     .     .     .  1 64 

The  Pack-rat 1 66 

The  Hunters       ...........  1 70 

The  Great  Stag 173 


WOODMYTH  &   FABLE 


FOREWORD 

Most  boys  gather  in  the  woods  pretty 
and  odd  bits  of  moss,  fungus,  and  other 
treasures  that  have  no  price.  They  bring 
them  home  and  store  them  in  that  uni 
versal  receptacle,  the  Tackle-box.  Some 
boys,  like  myself,  never  outgrow  the  habit. 
One  day  a  friend  observed  that  my  Tackle- 
box  was  full  and  suggested  that  a  selec 
tion  be  given  to  the  public. 

Most  of  this  booty  I  gathered  in  the 
woods  myself,  but  an  Indian  gave  me  frag 
ments  of  "The  Recipe"  and  "  Gitch-e 
O-kok-o-hoo,"  and  a  Chinaman  told  me 
where  to  find  "The  Frog  in  the  Well." 


f;r. 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


THE  COLLECTOR  '&&  OES ; 

VENERABLE  old    man 
with  a  pen  behind  his  ear, 
and  ink  on  his  fingers,  went 
up  the  main  street  of  Hu- 
mantown,  calling  out  as  he  went: 

* '  Lies !  Any  old  lies  to-day  ?  Biscuits 
for  lies  to-day!" 

He  had  a  basket  of  sweet  wafers,  or 
biscuits,  on  one  arm,  and  they  were  shaped 
like  a  human  ear.  These  he  was  exchang 
ing  for  the  lies,  that  were  very  abundant 
in  this  town. 

Most  of  the  inhabitants  freely  gave  them 
to  the  man;  some  even  pressed  them  on 
him:  but  a  few  had  to  be  repaid  with  at 
least  a  wafer.  Very  soon  the  old  man's 
bag  was  full. 

It  was  a  new  thing  to  collect  lies,  and 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


nrtafcy  fjcke^lwere;  b&&e£!  at  the  expense 
of  the  old  man  and  his  odd  occupation. 
The  strange  merchant  left  the  main  street, 
and  a  little  child  had  the  curiosity  to  fol 
low  him.  The  venerable  one  turned  aside 
through  a  door  into  a  beautiful  garden  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  town  and  yet  quite 
unknown.  He  closed  the  door,  but  the 
child  peeped  through  the  keyhole,  and 
saw  the  old  man  take  the  bag  of  lies  and 
give  it  a  good  shake.  There  was  a  com 
motion  and  rattling  inside  for  a  time,  and 
the  mass  seemed  to  be  smaller. 

"Ah,  hear  them  eating  each  other  up ! " 
chuckled  the  old  man. 

Another  shake  was  followed  by  more 
commotion  and  another  shrinkage.  The 
collector's  face  beamed. 

A  few  more  shakes,  and  the  bag  seemed 
actually  empty;  but  the  old  man  opened 


K, 

I    ' 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


it  carefully,  and  there  in  the  far  comer  was 
a  pinch  of  pure  gold. 

The  child  reported  all  these  things,  and 
the  next  time   they   saw 
the  old  man,   the  people 
demanded  who  he   was. 
He  answered: 

" 'I  am  the  Historian." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


<_ 


THE  LAND-CRAB 

AM  absolutely  unchange 
able.  Nothing  can  turn  me 
aside  one  hairVbreadth 
from  my  purpose,"  said  the 
little  Land-crab,  as  he  left  his  winter 
quarters  in  the  hills  and  began  his  regular 
spring  journey  to  the  Sea.  But  during  the 
winter  a  line  of  telegraph  poles  had  been 
placed  along  his  track.  The  Land-crab 
came  to  the  first  pole.  He  would  not  turn 
aside  one  inch.  He  spent  all  day  climb 
ing  up  the  side  of  the  pole,  and  all  the 
next  day  climbing  down  the  other  side, 
then  on  till  he  came  to  the  next  pole, 
where  he  had  another  frightful  climb  up 
and  over  and  down  again.  Thus  he  went 
on  day  after  day,  and  when  the  summer 
was  gone  they  found  the  body  of  the  poor 


K 

I- 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


little  Land-crab  dead  at  the  bottom  of  one 
of  the  poles  only  half-way  to  the  Sea, 
which  he  might  have  reached  easily  in 
half  a  day  had  he  been  contented  to  devi 
ate  six  inches  from  his  usual  line  of  travel. 

MORAL:  A  good  substitute  for  Wisdom 
has  not  yet  been  discovered. 


.£15 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  CURE  OF  THE  GULPER 

O,  my  child;  the  dragons 
and  monsters  are  not  all  gone. 
There  are  just  as  many  as 
ever  there  were,  and  they  are 
just  as  powerful  and  wicked,  only  we  fight 
them  differently  now.  We  do  not  send 
for  a  good  fairy,  but  for  some  other  kind 
of  dragon. 

"Not  long  ago,  and  not  far  away,  there 
was  a  farming  country  of  great  thrift  and 
prosperity,  but  much  handicapped  by  the 
smallness  of  its  horses, —  the  best  of  these 
could  carry  only  a  small  load, — so  every 
one  was  surprised,  and  later  on  delighted, 
when  a  philosopher  brought  them  a  won 
derful  monster  that  was  stronger  than  a 
thousand  horses.  This  was  called  a  Gul- 
per,  and  it  drew  the  heaviest  loads  as 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


though  they  were  nothing.  Large  num 
bers  were  bred,  and  soon  each  community 
had  at  least  one.  Before  long,  however, 
the  new  beasts  developed  an  unpleasant 
nature.  Their  original  meekness  began  to 
disappear.  They  became  surly,  then  dan 
gerous;  at  last  they  had  to  be  pampered 
and  pacified  on  all  occasions.  They  still 
did  a  great  deal  of  the  heaviest  work,  but 
became  so  tyrannical  and  outrageous  in 
their  demands  that  each  community  was 
reduced  to  a  state  of  slavery,  and  its  mon 
ster  terrorized  all  and  owned  everything, 
quickly  destroying  those  who  resisted  him. 
There  was  never  a  more  downtrodden 
people.  Things  were  as  bad  as  pos 
sible,  when  a  naturalist,  one  day,  as  he 
walked  in  the  woods  and  pondered  this 
terrible  condition,  said: 

1  *  In  my  world  every  beast  has  his  foe 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


that  tames  him  when  he  outrages  the 
bounds.  If  I  only  could  find  the  Buga 
boo  of  the  Gulper ! ' 

"  So  he  sought  and  sought  and  sought ; 
then  he  came  to  the  country  whence  they 
had  brought  the  Gulper,  and  there  he 
found  the  Gulper' s  Bugaboo.  It  was  noth 
ing  but  an  ordinary  monoculous  Angle- 
tail.  It  was  a  slim  yellow  thing  with  very 
short  legs,  one  immense  red  eye  at  each 
end  of  its  body,  and  a  long  thin  tail  that 
grew  out  of  the  middle  of  its  back  and 
was  carried  stiffly  raised  and  pointing  be 
hind.  The  Angletail  could  go  backward 
or  forward  equally  well,  but  one  could 
always  tell  beforehand  which  way  it  was 
going,  because  the  tail  would  switch  over 
and  point  backward,  and  the  eye  at  the 
end  which  now  became  the  rear  would 
lose  its  light  and  would  go  sleepy,  while 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


the  other  fairly  blazed  with  fire.  The 
Angletail  was  much  smaller  than  the 
Gulper,  but  its  activity  was  wonderful. 
The  Gulper  was  swift,  but  the  Angle- 
tail  could  climb  hills  and  dodge  in  a  way 
that  was  far  beyond  the  ablest  Gulper, 
and  once  it  got  after  the  monster  it  never 
stopped  running  alongside  till  it  had  sucked 
his  life-blood.  Not  that  Gulpers  were  its 
only  food,  but  the  farmers  did  all  they 
could  to  urge  on  the  Angletail,  and  it 
was  very  ready  to  respond.  Finally  all  a 
man  had  to  do  to  tame  a  rebellious  Gul 
per  was  to  put  up  his  mouth  as  though 
about  to  whistle  for  the  monoculous  one, 
and  at  once  the  monster  was  cowed  and 
glad  to  make  any  kind  of  terms,  and  they 
all  lived  happy  ever  after. 

'You  don't  understand?    Well,  my 
child,  the  Gulper  is  the  greedy,  grinding 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


rl 

1       2"   •*- 

c. 


. 

//railroad  company,  and  its  Bugaboo  is  the 
//     trolley-car.    Let  us  hope  that  there  will 
//      always  be  deadly  enmity  between  the 
/  /        monopolous  Gulper  and  the  monoculous 
Angletail." 

MORAL :  Every  bug  has  its  bugaboo. 


WOODMYTH  &   FABLE 


HOW  THE  GIRAFFE  BECAME 

AGES  ago  in  the  deserts 

of  Africa  there  lived 

little    brown    Antelope. 

He  was  not  strong  like 
the  Lion,  nor  big  like  the  Elephant,  nor 
had  he  horns  like  the  Koodoo,  nor  claws 
like  the  Leopard.  He  could  not  swim, 
nor  could  he  climb  or  fly.  When  danger 
came  he  could  do  nothing  but  run  away, 
and  this  he  did  very  well. 
But  he  was  not  satisfied. 
One  day  he  saw  a  Man,  and  he 
walked  quietly  up  to  look  more  closely 
at  the  strange  creature  of  whom  he  had 
often  heard.  As  he  watched  he  saw  a 
Lion  crawling  to  spring  on  the  Man. 
Now  the  Antelope's  mother  had  taught 
him  that  when  he  saw  a  Lion  trying  to 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


kill  some  creature  he  must  warn  that 
creature;  this  is  desert  etiquette.  So  he 
gave  a  great  start,  and  snorting  out, "  Lion! 
Lion! "  he  bounded  past  the  Man, spread 
ing  the  little  white  danger-flag  that  some 
writers  call  his  tail.  The  Man  heard  the 
warning  and  got  into  a  tree  in  time  to 
escape  the  Lion.  After  the  Lion  had 
gone  the  Man  called  the  Antelope  and 
said: 

"Little  Antelope,  I  am  a  prophet  of 
Allah ;  you  have  saved  my  life  from  that 
ill-informed  Lion,  and  therefore  you  shall 
have  whatever  you  ask." 

Then  the  Antelope  said:  "When  Al 
lah  made  the  beasts  it  seems  he  forgot 
me,  for  he  gave  me  no  claws,  teeth, 
horns,  nor  tail  to  flap  the  flies,  nor  strength 
nor  power  to  fly,  climb,  or  swim.  Please, 
good  Prophet,  tell  him  that  he  left  me 


K 

=5 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


out  and  ask  him  to  give  me  the  things  I 
need." 

"But,"  said  the  Prophet,  "you  can 
not  have  all :  if  you  have  size  you  cannot 
climb  a  tree;  if  strength,  you  need  not  be 
swift." 

But  all  the  Prophet's  talk  was  in  vain ; 
the  little  Antelope  wanted  at  leasl  horns, 
size,  strength,  a  long  fly-flapper  tail. 
'Then,"  said  he,  "I  shall  be  content." 
To  this  the  Prophet  said:  "So  be  it,  little 
Antelope ;  go  to  the  long  slope  of  Mount 
Epoch,  and  there  roll  in  the  Dust  of 
Ages." 

The  Antelope  did  so,  and  was  over 
joyed  to  find  himself  of  great  size  and 
strength,  with  a  beautiful  fly-flapper  tail, 
and  two  long  horns  on  his  head. 

After  some  time,  however,  he  found 
that  there  was  yet  much  needed  to 


c 


,    complete  his  happiness.    His  great 
*&r     size  called  for  so  much  more  food 
that  he  had  to  live  in  the  rank 
bushes,  where  he  could  not  see  the 
lurking  dangers ;  and,  besides,  it  cost 
him  his  speed,  so  that  his  troubles 
were  increased:  Therefore  he  again 
sought  the  Prophet  and  said : 

"Good  Prophet,  it  was  clearly  your 
intention  to  make  me  happy  for  saving 
your  life  at  great  risk  to  myself.  Now, 
surely  you  are  not  going  to  make  a 
failure  of  any  of  your  good  plans. 
Please  ask  Allah  to  complete  my  equip 
ment  by  giving  me  a  long  neck  so  I 
can  overlook  the  bushes  where  I  must 
feed,  and  also  increase  my  speed,  for  I 
need  it." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  Prophet.  "Now 
go  and  bathe  in  the  Long  Reach  of  the 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


River  called  the  Wear-of-Time."  The 
Antelope  did  so,  and  when  he  came  out 
he  had  a  long  neck  and  legs,  as  he  had 
wished. 

But  his  long  neck  made  grazing  trouble 
some,  and  his  great  weight  made  marshy 
ground  dangerous,  so  he  was  driven  to 
seek  his  food  among  the  bushes  as  tall  as 
himself,  where  the  ground  was  firm. 

At  length  there  came  a  very  dry  year 
when  all  the  low  foliage  died,  and  the  An 
telope  had  eaten  all  he  could  reach  and 
was  like  to  die  of  hunger.  So  he  sought 
the  Prophet  as  before,  and  begged  his  aid 
to  make  his  neck  yet  longer,  that  he  might 
reach  the  topmost  foliage.  "  As  a  matter 
of  fact,"  said  the  Antelope,  "  I  would 
gladly  give  up  these  stupid  horns  for  a 
few  more  inches  of  neck." 

'  Very  good,"  said  the  Prophet.    "Go 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


and  pass  through  the  Burning  Valley 
called  the  Tribulator  of  Selection." 

The  Antelope  did  so,  and  found  himself 
as  he  had  wished,  with  a  neck  that  would 
reach  the  tallest  trees,  but  with  the  use 
less  horns  burnt  off  where  the  hair  of  his 
head  ended. 

Before  long  the  Antelope  was  back 
with  a  new  request.  His  long  yellow 
neck  was  too  easily  seen  afar ;  he  wanted 
it  painted  like  a  tree-trunk ;  and  the  four 
hoofs  he  still  had  on  each  foot  were  a 
positive  handicap — he  knew  he  could  get 
around  faster  if  they  were  reduced  to  two 
on  each  foot.  '  Then,"  said  he,  "  I  know 
I  should  really  and  truly  be  content." 

But  in  all  his  asking  the  Antelope  never 
once  asked  for  a  change  of  heart,  and  the 
Prophet,  out  of  all  patience,  said:  "  These 
last  requests  shall  be  granted  when  you 


K 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


have  eaten  of  the  tree  called  Environal 
Response;  but  to  prevent  you  making 
any  more  you  shall  henceforth  forever  be 
mute."  And  it  was  so. 

There  he  is  to-day,  of  vast  stature,  the 
tallest  in  the  world,  only  two  hoofs  on 
each  foot,  no  horns,  voiceless — a  huge 
creature,  truly;  but  his  heart  is  still  the 
heart  of  the  timid  little  Antelope,  and 
the  days  of  his  kind  are  numbered. 

While  those  of  his  race  who  were  con 
tent  as  Allah  meant  them  to  be — nothing 
but  swift — still  dwell  in  safety  on  their 
wild,  free  deserts  in  the  Land  of  the  Sun. 


MORAL :  Any  fool  can 
improve  on  creation. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THREE  LORDS  AND  A  LITTLE 
LORD 

HERE  were  three  Lords 
and  a  little  Lord  in  the 
forest  where  Manitou  made 

1  them. 

The  first  was  Mi-in-gan.  He  was  swift 
as  the  spotted  Redfin  and  tireless  as  the 
Kamanistiquia  where  it  leaps  from  Kaka- 
beka  Rock  to  the  boiling  gorge  of  the 
Gitche  Nanka.  His  voice  was  like  the 
moan  of  a  far  looming  whirlwind — not 
loud  nor  rough,  but  soft,  and  yet  with  a 
tone  to  freeze  the  stoutest  heart.  His 
weapons  were  twenty-four  white  arrows 
that  pierced  the  foe,  then  leaped  back 
again  to  their  quiver;  and  his  cunning  was 
like  that  of  the  Wa-wa  of  many  snows. 


3i 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


In  this  was  his  power — in  this  and  in  his 
tireless  feet. 

The  second  great  Lord  was  Mus-wa,  of 
mighty  strength  and  great  stature.  None 
could  equal  him.  When  he  went  to  war, 
he  brandished  four  war-clubs  and  a  hun 
dred  spears  that  always  returned  to  his 
hand  after  throwing.  His  voice  was  like 
the  rending  of  ice  in  the  Hunger  Moon. 
He  was  swiftest  of  them  all  and  strongest 
of  them  all,  and  in  his  great  strength  he 
put  all  his  trust. 

The  third  was  Mai-kwa,  the  silent. 
He  was  strong,  but  less  so  than  Mus-wa. 
He  was  cunning,  but  less  so  than  Mi-in- 
gan.  He  carried  two  great  clubs  and  had 
twelve  white  arrows  which  pierced  and 
returned  to  the  quiver. 

There  was  yet  another,  a  little  Lord  in 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


the  Forest,  Wee-nusk.  He  was  weak  and 
small,  and  he  knew  it.  He  had  two  little 
axes  for  wood-cutting.  He  had  no  great 
strength,  and  he  knew  it,  and  knowing  his 
weakness,  he  had  wisdom. 

Now  Manitou,  when  he  had  made  them 
and  the  Forest,  spake  thus : 

"  Behold,  I  have  made  you  and  given 
you  the  Forest  to  live  in.  Go  now  and 
live  according  to  the  law  of  the  Forest; 
but  remember  this,  ye  children  of  Mother 
Earth:  to  all  the  Earth-born  there  comes  a 
day  of  dire  extremity,  of  peril  beyond  all 
power  to  save  but  one — the  power  of 
Mother  Earth.  Therefore,  be  ready  to 
seek  her.  Keep  open  and  clear  the  trail 
to  her  abode.  Make  plain  the  way  in 
Sunshine  of  prosperity,  for  no  trail  opens 
in  the  hour  of  dreadful  stress." 

But  Mus-wa  trusted  in  his  might.    He 


•»•*' 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


said:  "  I  am  the  strongest  in  the  Wood." 
And  Mi-in-gan  trusted  in  his  cunning.  He 
said:  "I  am  the  wisest  in  the  Wood." 
And  Mai-kwa  said:  "I  am  wise  as  fear 
less  Mi-in-gan,  and  strong  as  fearless  Mus- 
wa.  Why  should  I  fear?" 

Only  Wee-nusk  remembered  the  warn 
ing.  He  was  not  cunning,  but  he  spent 
part  of  each  spring  and  fall  making  plain 
the  trail  to  Mother  Earth.  So  when  the 
Far-Killing  Mystery  reached  the  Forest, 
the  first  to  go  down  was  the  strong  Mus- 
wa,  and  the  second  the  tireless,  cunning 
Mi-in-gan,  and  the  third  was  Mai-kwa. 
Their  strength  was  as  a  burnt  grass-blade ; 
their  cunning  was  silly.  There  was  no  help 
for  them,  for  they  knew  no  trail  of  escape. 

But  Wee-nusk  ran  to  Mother  Earth,  and 
the  Far-Killing  Mystery  could  in  no  wise 
do  him  harm. 


4», 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


So  to-day  he  alone  remains  in  the 
Land  of  the  Pequot.  Mus-wa,  the  great 
Moose,  is  gone ;  Mi-in-gan,  the  cunning 
Wolf,  is  gone;  Mai-kwa,  the  strong  and 
cunning  Bear,  is  gone. 

They  forgot  the  road  to  Mother  Earth, 
and  the  Rifle  wiped  them  out. 

But  Wee-nusk,  the  weak  and  unintel 
ligent  Woodchuck,  is  left,  the  only  Lord 
of  the  Forest;  for  he  trusts  not  to  him 
self  but  flies  for  refuge  to  the  Earth. 

MORAL :  Get  back,  ye  Earth-born,  back 
to  Mother  Earth. 


Mm    HlilllJP    iin/fci   H^T^f1 ^^JyJm    «M»  ' *M>n 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  TEN  TRAILS 

NCE  there  were  two  Indians 
who  went  out  together  to 
hunt.  Hapeda  was  very 
strong  and  swift  and  a  won- 
'derful  bowman.  Chatun  was  much  weaker 
and  carried  a  weaker  bow;  but  he  was 
very  patient. 

As  they  went  through  the  hills  they 
came  on  the  fresh  track  of  a  small  Deer. 
Chatun  said :  "  My  brother,  I  shall  follow 
that." 

But  Hapeda  said:  "You  may  if  you 
like,  but  a  mighty  hunter  like  me  wants 
bigger  game." 
So  they  parted. 

Hapeda  went  on  for  an  hour  or  more 
and  found  the  track  of  ten  large  Elk  going 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


different  ways.  He  took  the  trail  of  the 
largest  and  followed  for  a  long  way,  but 
not  coming  up  with  it,  he  said:  "That 
one  is  evidently  traveling.  I  should  have 
taken  one  of  the  others." 

So  he  went  back  to  the  place  where 
he  first  found  it,  and  took  up  the  trail  of 
another.  After  a  hunt  of  over  an  hour  in 
which  he  failed  to  get  a  shot,  he  said: 
"I  have  followed  another  traveler.  I  '11 
go  back  and  take  up  the  trail  of  one  that 
is  feeding." 

But  again,  after  a  short  pursuit,  he 
gave  up  that  one  to  go  back  and  try  an 
other  that  seemed  more  promising.  Thus 
he  spent  a  whole  day  trying  each  of  the 
trails  for  a  short  time,  and  at  night  came 
back  to  camp  with  nothing,  to  find  that 
Chatun,  though  his  inferior  in  all  other 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


ways,  had  proved  wiser.  He  had  stuck 
doggedly  to  the  trail  of  the  one  little  Deer, 
and  now  had  its  carcass  safely  in  camp. 

MORAL:  The  Prize  is  always  at  the  end 
of  the  trail 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


WHERE  TRUTH  LIVES 

"It  's  my  opinion,"  said  the  Frog  in 
the  well,  "that  the  size  of  the  ocean  is 
greatly  overrated." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  TWIN   STARS 


Two-Bright-Eyes  went  wandering  out 
To  chase  the  Whippoorwill ; 

Fwo-Bright-Eyes  got  lost  and  left 
Our  teepee — oh,  so  still! 

Two-Bright-Eyes  was  lifted  up 

To  sparkle  in  the  skies 
And  look  like  stars, — but  we  know  well 

That  that 's  our  lost  Bright-Eyes. 

She  is  looking  for  the  camp, 

She  would  come  back  if  she  could; 

She  is  peeping  thro'  the  tree-tops 
For  the  teepee  in  the  wood. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  TWO  LOG-ROLLERS 

"  Friend  Beaver,"  the  Bear  said,  with  scorn  in 

his  tone, 

"  I  roll  far  more  logs  in  a  day 
Than  you  and  your  family,  all  toiling  at  once, 
Can  roll  while  a  year  wears  away." 

"Very  true,"  said  the  Beaver,  at  work  on  his 

dam; 

"But,  since  the  blunt  facts  must  be  told, 
I  get  some  results  from  my  dozen  small  logs; 
While  your  logs  are  just  simply  rolled" 


'&  '     iS  .Jz*^s£fi%i'"/f*  ..  .  .'/ni\'K\\vN\  J 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  CONVERTED  SOAP 
BOILER 

CERTAIN  good  man  loved 
things  old  because  they  were 
quaint.  He  said  he  would 
gladly  give  up  locomotives 
and  printing-presses  to  have  "the"  spelled 
"ye,"  as  of  old.  It  gave  him  a  spasm  of 
joy  to  see  a  building  called  a  "bvilding," 
and  he  was  filled  with  gloats  whenever  he 
could  get  a  newspaper  to  spell  "gospel" 
as  "gofpel,"  or  "honor"  as  "  honoure" 
it  was  "so  qvaint,  so  Shakespearian!" 

A  friend,  who  was  making  a  fortune 
boiling  soap  by  day,  and  spending  it  in 
gathering  a  library  by  night,  took  him  to 
task  one  day,  thus:  "There  was  a  time  in 
the  evolution  of  the  alphabet  when  u  and 
v,  d and  t, pand  5,  cw  and v,  etc. , were  imper- 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


fectly  differentiated,  and  used  somewhat 
indiscriminately ;  but  to  revive  this  thing 
now  is  to  breed  confusion,  to  step  back 
ward  and  downward.  It  is  as  bad  as  re 
storing  the  useless  tags  that  the  horse  once 
had  on  each  side  of  his  feet  where  for 
merly  there  were  other  toes.  In  their  day 
these  oddities  of  spelling  reflected  their 
time;  to  import  them  into  our  present 
day  is  not  only  opposed  to  common  sense, 
it  is  as  dishonest  as  if  we  were  to  stamp 
a  modern  product  *  Anno  Dom.CC/  Sup 
pose,  now,  one  of  these  spurious  imitative 
inscriptions  to  be  dug  up  five  hundred  years 
hence.  Though  only  five  hundred  years 
old,  the  internal  evidence  makes  it  double 
that  age,  thus  lending  itself  to  a  lie  and 
building  up  an  abominable  deceit." 

'Thou  art  all  wronge,"  said  the  anti 
quary.     '  Ye  delycious  quaintnesse  of  ye 


(\ 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


antient  masters  waye  did  breede  yem  an 
atmosphere  of  sweetnesse  and  joyaunce 
yat  was  verily  ye  mother  of  theire  great- 
nesse.  Shakespeare  never  could  have  writ 
ten  had  he  been  yforced  to  a  type-writer, 
neither  could  Spenser  have  sung  had  he 
been  compelled  to  spell '  faerie  *  as  'fairy.' 
Ye  atmosphere  which  bred  yem  was  bred 
of  ye  quaintnesse  of  yr  spelling." 

The  soap-boiler  was  touched,  for  he 
loved  bookso  He  pondered  all  these 
things  for  long,  and  then  he  wrote  to  his 
friend : 

6  Verily  mine  eyen  are  oped.  I  have 
seen  a  greate  lichte  and  have  a  newe 
hearte  withinne  me.  Odzooks!  I  have 
lost  much  time,  pardee,  but  I  will  this  at 
mosphere  of  quaintnesse  in  mine  owne 
kingdomme,  for  I  have  charged  mine  hire 
lings  that  they  call  me  '  ye  master.'  Be- 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


shrew  me,  but  I  am  minded  to  oust  mine — 
my — type-writer — is  it  not  so  called?- 
and  hie  me  to  ye  holy  goose-quille  of  mine 
fathers.  I  have,  moreover,  inscribed  a 
newe  tablet  for  ye  gabel  that  is  ye 
ende  of  mine  workes  wherein  I  do  boyle 
mine  soap.  By  my  halidome,  methinks  it 
lilteth  right  merrilie  and  smackethof  much 
and  comelie  quaintnesse." 


Splitting  rails  <will  not  make  an  Abraham 
Lincoln. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  -, 


THE  WISE  WOODCHUCK 

•J 

k  F  all  the  beasts  that  roamed  the  woods  in 

their  primeval  state, 
The  Woodchuck  only  holds  his  own  and  keeps 

right  up  to  date ; 
And  why  he  never  lost  his  grip  may  prove  a 

plan  of  worth : 
He  sticks  to  this  first  principle,  "  Get  back  to 

Mother  Earth." 
Another  thing  he  demonstrates :  the  safest  kind 

of  wealth 
Is  brains  with  up-to-date  ideas,  a  hide  just 

crammed  with  health. 

A  final  guide  in  Woodchuck  life  is  this  well- 
known  refrain : 
"  He  ought  to  die  who  has  n't  sense  to  come  in 

from  the  rain." 
The  Chipmunk  stores  up  hoards  of  nuts,  which 

robbers  steal  away; 
The  Fox  stays  out  late  every  night  and  dearly 

has  to  pay : 
But  Woodchuck  hides  when  fall's  feasts  fail ;  his 

fat  his  only  hoard 
For  months  of  subsoil  serious  thought,  as  happy 

as  a  lord. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


And  every  year  at  Candlemas  he  reappears  on  earth, 
For,  as  astronomers  well  know,  a  new 

conjunction's  birth 
Takes  place  that  day  among  the  stars,  and 

settles  for  good  reason 
The  kind  of  weather  coming  for  the  balance  of 

the  season. 
Then  if  the  sky  is  overcast  with  murky  clouds 

and  gray, 
This  is  a  sign  of  winter  past  and  springtime  on 

the  way ; 
But  if,  in  air  all  frosty  clear,  the  sun,  unveiled 

and  bright, 
Should  cast  his  shadow  on  the  snow,  he  reads 

the  sign  aright,  ^_ 

And  turns   back  to  his   f  »?  -s»  /» 

(f  II  £>„ 


peaceful  cell,  renews 
his  meditation 


I 


p& 


For  six  hard  weeks,  which  justifies 
his  sage  prognostication. 

Then  loud  we  sing  the  wise  Wood- 
chuck  :  he  hides  when 
storms  are  rife ; 

He  values  only  health  and  wits, 
hence  his  success  in  life. 


% 

I^K 


THE  FAIRY  LAMPS 

HERE  was  once  a  little  bare 
legged,  brown-limbed  boy  who 
spent  all  his  time  in  the  woods. 
He  loved  the  woods  and  all  that  was 
in  them.    He  used  to  look,  not  at  the 
flowers,  but  deep  down  into  them, 
and  not  at  the  singing  bird,  but  into  its 
eyes,  to  its  little  heart;  and  so  he  got 
an  insight  better  than  most  others,  and 
he  quite  gave  up  collecting  birds'  eggs. 
But  the  woods  were  full  of  mys 
teries.     He  used  to  hear  little  bursts  of 
song,  and  when  he  came  to  the  place  he 
could  find  no  bird  there.  Noises  and  move- 


OK  WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


ments  would  just  escape  him.  In  the 
woods  he  saw  strange  tracks,  and  one  day, 
at  length,  he  saw  a  wonderful  bird  making 
these  very  tracks.  He  had  never  seen  the 
bird  before,  and  would  have  thought  it  a 
great  rarity  had  he  not  seen  its  tracks  every 
where.  So  he  learned  that  the  woods 
were  full  of  beautiful  creatures  that  were 
skilful  and  quick  to  avoid  him. 

One  day,  as  he  passed  by  a  spot  for 
the  hundredth  time,  he  found  a  bird's  nest. 
It  must  have  been  there  for  long,  and  yet 
he  had  not  seen  it ;  and  so  he  learned  how 
blind  he  was,  and  he  exclaimed:  "Oh, 
if  only  I  could  see,  then  I  might  understand 
these  things !  If  only  I  knew !  If  I  could 
see  but  for  once  how  many  there  are  and 
how  near!  If  only  every  bird  would  wear 
over  its  nest  this  evening  a  little  lamp  to 
show  me! " 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


The  sun  was  down  now;  but  all  at 
once  there  was  a  soft  light  on  the  path, 
and  in  the  middle  of  it  the  brown  boy  saw 
a  Little  Brown  Lady  in  a  long  robe,  and 
in  her  hand  a  rod. 

She  smiled  pleasantly  and  said :  "  Little 
boy,  I  am  the  Fairy  of  the  Woods.  I 
have  been  watching  you  for  long.  I  like 
you.  You  seem  to  be  different  from  other 
boys.  Your  request  shall  be  granted." 

Then  she  faded  away.  But  at  once 
the  whole  landscape  twinkled  over  with 
wonderful  little  lamps — long  lamps,  short 
lamps,  red,  blue,  and  green,  high  and  low, 
doubles,  singles,  and  groups :  wherever  he 
looked  were  lamps — twinkle,  twinkle, 
twinkle,  here  and  everywhere,  until  the 
forest  shone  like  the  starry  sky.  He  ran 
to  the  nearest,  and  there,  surely,  was 
a  bird's  nest.  He  ran  to  the  next;  yes, 


WOOD  MYTH  &  FABLE 


another  nest.  And  here  and  there  each 
different  kind  of  lamp  stood  for  another 
kind  of  nest.  A  beautiful  purple  blaze  in 
a  low  tangle  caught  his  eye.  He  ran 
there,  and  found  a  nest  he  had  never 
seen  before.  It  was  full  of  purple  eggs, 
and  there  was  the  rare  bird  he  had  seen 
but  once.  It  was  chanting  the  weird  song 
he  had  often  heard,  but  never  traced. 
But  the  eggs  were  the  marvelous  things. 
His  old  egg-collecting  instinct  broke  out. 
He  reached  forth  to  clutch  the  wonderful 
prize,  and — in  an  instant  all  the  lights  went 
out.  There  was  nothing  but  the  black 
woods  about  him.  Then  on  the  pathway 
shone  again  the  soft  light.  It  grew  brighter, 
till  in  the  middle  of  it  he  saw  the  Little 
Brown  Lady — the  Fairy  of  the  Woods. 
But  she  was  not  smiling  now.  Her  face 
was  stem  and  sad  as  she  said:  "  I  fear  I 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


set  you  over-high.    I  thought  you  better 
than  the  rest.    Keep  this  in  mind  : 


Who  reverence  not  the  f 
lamp  of  life  can  never 
see  its  li 


TW_ 


Then  she  faded  from  his  view. 


Kv 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 

THE  SCATTERATIONIST 

IMS  settlement  was  begin 
ning  to  feel  itself  a  place  of 
importance.  The  chief  road 
had  a  fence  on  both  sides  of 
it  for  over  a  mile,  and  a  blaze  on  a  large 
tree  was  already  ordered  with  the  official 
inscription  Main  street . ' '  There  had  been 
talk  of  the  possibility  of  a  store,  and  local 
pride  broke  forth  in  noble  eruption  when 
a  meeting  was  called  to  petition  for  a 
post-office.  The  wisdom,  worth,  and 
wealth  of  the  place  were  represented  by 
old  Sims.  He  was  a  man  of  advanced 
ideas,  the  natural  leader  of  the  commu 
nity;  and  after  all  the  questions  had  been 
duly  discussed,  the  store  and  post-office 
resolved  upon,  the  question  of  who  was 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


to  run  them  came  up.  There  were  sev 
eral  aspirants,  but  old  Sims  led  the  meet 
ing,  expressing  the  majority  and  crushing 
the  minority  in  a  brief  but  satisfactory 
speech : 

"Fust  of  all,  boys,  I  'm  opposed  to 
this  yer  centerin'  of  everything  in  one 
place.  Now  that 's  jest  what  hez  been 
the  rooin  of  England;  that  is  why  Lon 
don  ain't  never  amounted  to  nothin'- 
everything  at  London.  London  is  Eng 
land;  England  is  London.  If  London  's 
took,  England  's  took,  says  I,  an'  that  hez 
been  her  rooin. 

'The  idee  of  House  o'  Lords  an' 
House  o'  Commons  in  the  same  town ! 
It  ain't  fair,  I  tell  ye;  it  's  a  hog  trick. 
Why  did  n't  they  give  some  little  place 
a  chance  instead  o'  buildin'  up  a  blastin' 
monopoly  like  that?  Same  thing  hez 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


rooined  New  York,  an'  I  don't  propose 
to  hev  our  town  rooined  at  the  start. 

"Now  I  say  no  man  hez  any  right  to 
live  on  the  public.  *  Live  an'  let  live,'  says 
I ;  an'  if  we  let  one  man  run  this  yer  store, 
it 's  tantamount  to  makin'  the  others  the 
slaves  of  a  monopoly.  Every  man  hez  as 
much  right  as  another  to  sell  goods,  an' 
there  is  only  one  fair  way  to  do  it,  an'  that 
is  give  all  a  chance;  an'  sence  it  falls  to 
me  to  make  a  suggestion,  I  says,  let  Bill 
Jones  thar  sell  the  tea ;  let  Ike  Yates  hev 
the  sugar ;  Smithers  kin  handle  the  salt ; 
Deacon  Blight  seems  naturally  adapted  for 
the  vinegar;  and  the  other  claims  kin  be 
considered  later.  I  '11  take  the  post-office 
meself  down  to  my  own  farm.  Now  that 's 
fair  to  all." 

There  was  no  flaw  in  the  logic;  it  was 
most  convincing.  Those  who  would  fight 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


I    56 


found  themselves  without  a  weapon,  and 
Scatteration  Flat  became  a  model  of  de 
centralization. 

Work?  Oh,  yes,  it  works.  Things  get 
badly  mixed  at  times,  and  it  takes  a  man 
all  day  to  buy  his  week's  groceries ;  but  old 
Sims  says  it  works. 

MORAL:  The  hen  goes  chickless  that 
scatters  its  eggs. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  POINT  OF  VIEW 

QUIET  country  home  among 
fruit-trees  and  shrubbery;  the 
gray-bearded  Master,  a  fa 
mous  vegetarian,  in  the 
porch  reading  a  paper;  a  rolling  meadow ; 
a  flock  of  well-fed  sheep. 

SCENE  I.  In  the  Master's  House.  The 
Graybeard  looking  over  the  meadow. 

"  How  can  human  beings  be  so  bestial 
as  to  prey  on  their  flocks?  For  me  there 
is  no  greater  pleasure  than  to  know  I 
can  make  their  lives  happy.  Their  annual 
wool  is  ample  payment  for  their  keep.  But 
I  see  by  the  paper  that  this  awful  sheep 
pestilence  has  broken  out  on  the  coast.  I 
must  waste  no  time;  nothing  but  inocula 
tion  can  save  them.  Poor  things,  how  I 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  * 


wish  I  could  spare  them  this  pain !  *  *  So 
the  Graybeard,  with  his  man,  caught  the 
terrified  sheep  one  by  one,  while  a  butcher 
in  a  blue  blouse  sat  on  the  fence  and  grin 
ned.  Each  sheep  suffered  a  sharp  pang 
when  the  inoculator  pierced  its  skin.  Each 
was  more  or  less  ill  afterward.  But  all 
recovered,  and  the  plague  which  swept 
the  country  a  month  later  left  only  them 
alive  of  all  the  countless  flocks. 

SCENE  II.  Among  the  sheep. 

First  Sheep:  "Ah,  how  happy  we 
should  be  but  for  that  treacherous  gray- 
bearded  monster!  Sometimes  and  for 
long  he  feeds  us  and  seems  kind,  and  then 
without  any  just  cause  there  is  a  change, 
as  the  other  day,  when  he  came  with  his 
accomplice  and  ran  us  down  one  by  one 
and  stabbed  us  with  some  devilish  in- 


WOOD  MYTH  &  FABLE 


strument  of  torture,  so  that  we  all  were 
very  ill  afterward.  How  we  hate  the 
brute!" 

Second  Sheep :  "  If  only  we  could  come 
into  the  power  of  that  gentle  creature  in 
the  blue  blouse!" 

Chorus :  ' '  Ah,  that  would  be  joy !  Bah 
—bah— bah!" 

MORAL:  The  morewe  know  the  less 
<we  grumble. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE 
BLUEBIRD 

INNA-BO-JOU,  the  Sun- 
god,  was  sleeping  his  win 
ter's  sleep  on  the  big  island 
just  above  the  thunder-dam 
that  men  call  Niagara.  •  Four  moons  had 
waned,  but  still  he  slept.  The  frost 
draperies  of  his  couch  were  gone;  his 
white  blanket  was  burned  into  holes;  he 
turned  over  a  little.  Then  the  ice  on  the 
river  cracked  like  near  thunder.  When 
he  turned  again  it  began  to  slip  over  the 
big  beaver-dam  of  Niagara,  but  still  he  did 
not  awake. 

The  great  Er-  Beaver  in  his  pond  flapped 
his  tail,  and  the  waves  rolled  away  to  the 
shore  and  set  the  ice  heaving,  cracking, 
and  groaning;  but  Ninna-bo-jou  slept. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Then  the  Ice-demons  pounded  the 
shore  of  the  island  with  their  clubs. 
They  pushed  back  the  whole  river-flood 
till  the  channel  was  dry,  then  let  it  rush 
down  like  the  end  of  all  things,  and  they 
shouted  together: 

"Ninna-bo-jou!  Ninna-bo-jou !  Ninna- 
bo-jou!" 

But  still  he  slept  calmly  on.  Then 
came  a  soft,  sweet  voice,  more  gentle 
than  the  mating  turtle  of  Miami.  It  was 
in  the  air,  but  it  was  nowhere,  and  yet  it 
was  in  the  trees,  in  the  water,  and  it  was 
in  Ninna-bo-jou  too.  He  felt  it,  and 
it  awoke  him.  He  sat  up  and  looked 
about.  His  white  blanket  was  gone; 
only  a  few  tatters  of  it  were  to  be  seen 
in  the  shady  places.  In  the  snowy  spots 
the  shreds  of  the  fringe  with  its  beads  had 
taken  root  and  were  growing  into  little 


r;t 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


flowers  with  beady  eyes.  The  small  voice 
kept  crying:  "Awake;  the  Spring  is 
coming!" 

Ninna-bo-jou  said:  "Little  voice, 
where  are  you?  Come  here." 

But  the  little  voice,  being  everywhere, 
was  nowhere,  and  could  not  come  at  the 
hero's  call. 

So  he  said:  "Little  voice,  you  are 
nowhere  because  you  have  no  place  to 
live  in;  I  will  make  you  a  house." 

So  Ninna-bo-jou  took  a  curl  of  Birch 
bark  and  made  a  little  wigwam,  and  be 
cause  the  voice  came  from  the  skies  he 
painted  the  wigwam  with  blue  mud,  and 
to  show  that  it  came  from  the  Sunland 
he  painted  a  red  sun  on  it.  On  the  floor 
he  spread  a  scrap  of  his  own  white  blan 
ket,  then  for  a  fire  he  breathed  into  it  a 
spark  of  life,  and  said:  "  Here,  little  voice, 


> 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


is  your  wigwam."  The  little  voice  en 
tered  and  took  possession,  but  Ninna- 
bo-jou  had  breathed  the  spark  of  life  into 
it.  The  smoke-vent  wings  began  to  move 
and  to  flap,  and  the  little  wigwam  turned 
into  a  beautiful  Bluebird  with  a  red  sun 
on  its  breast  and  a  shirt  of  white.  Away 
it  flew,  but  every  Spring  it  comes,  the 
Bluebird  of  the  Spring.  The  voice  still 
dwells  in  it,  and  we  feel  that  it  has  lost 
nothing  of  its  earliest  power  when  we  hear 
it  cry:  "Awake;  the  Spring  is  coming!" 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  GITCH-E  O-KOK-O-HOO 

FTER  the  Great  Spirit  had 
made  the  world  and  the  crea 
tures  in  it,  he  made  the 
Gitch-e  O-kok-o-hoo.  This 
was  like  an  Owl,  but  bigger  than  anything 
else  alive,  and  his  voice  was  like  a  river 
plunging  over  a  rocky  ledge.  He  was  so 
big  that  he  thought  he  did  it  all  himself, 
and  was  puffed  up. 

The  Blue  Jay  is  the  mischief-maker  of 
the  woods.  He  is  very  smart  and  im 
pudent;  so  one  day  when  the  Gitch-e 
O-kok-o-hoo  was  making  thunder  in  his 
throat,  the  Blue  Jay  said :  "  Pooh,  Gitch-e 
O-kok-o-hoo,  you  don't  call  that  a  big 
noise!  You  should  hear  Niagara;  then 
you  would  never  twitter  again." 

Now  Niagara  was  the  last  thing  the 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Manitou  had  made;  it  never  ceases  to  utter 
the  last  word  of  the  Great  Spirit  in  creat 
ing  it:  "Forever!  forever!  forever!" 

But  Gitch-e  O-kok-o-hoo  was  nettled 
at  hearing  his  song  called  a  "twitter,"  and 
he  said:  "Niagara,  Niagara!  I'm  sick  of 
hearing  about  Niagara.  I  will  go  and 
silence  Niagara  for  always."  So  he  flew 
to  Niagara,  and  the  Blue  Jay  snickered 
and  followed  to  see  the  fun. 

When  they  came  to  Niagara  where  it 
thundered  down,  the  Gitch-e  O-kok-o-hoo 
began  bawling  to  drown  the  noise  of  it, 
but  could  not  make  himself  heard. 

'  Wa-wa-wa,"  said  the  Gitch-e  O- 
kok-o-hoo,  with  great  effort  and  only  for 
a  minute. 

"WA-WA-WA-WA,"saidtheriver, 
steadily,  easily,  and  forever. 

"Wa-wa-wa!"  shrieked  Gitch-e   O- 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


kok-o-hoo;  but  it  was  so  utterly  lost  that 
he  could  not  hear  it  himself,  and  he  be 
gan  to  feel  small ;  and  he  felt  smaller  and 
got  smaller  and  smaller,  until  he  was  no 
bigger  than  a  Sparrow,  and  his  voice,  in 
stead  of  being  like  a  great  cataract,  became 
'  like  the  dropping  of  water, 
just  a  little 

Tink-tank-tink, 
Tink-tank-tink. 

And  this  is  why  the  Indians 
give  to  this  smallest  of  the 
Owls  the  name  of  "the 
water-dropping  bird." 

When  the  top  is  Vbider  than 
the  root,  the  tree  goes  down. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  SUNKEN  ROCK 

POSITIVELY  decline  to 
have  that  young  Clippercut 
in  my  house  again.  His  in 
fluence  on  my  son  is  most 
dangerous." 

'  Why,  my  friend,  he  is  far  from  being 
a  bad  fellow.  He  has  his  follies,  I  admit, 
but  how  unlike  such  really  vicious  men  as 
Grogster,  Cardflip,  and  Ponyback!" 

"Sir,  the  only  danger  of  a  sunken  rock  is 
that  it  is  not  sunk  deep  enough." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


DOGWOOD 

WEN  Adam  was  in  Eden,  his 

choicest  plant  of  all 
Was  a  glorious  showy  Dogwood 

that  bloomed  above  the  wall. 
The  Devil  viewed  its  spotless  white;  he  marked 

the  Gardener's  pride, 
And  vowed  he  'd  spoil  the  garden's  show;— - 

but  dared  not  go  inside. 
And  so  he  climbed  a  Locust-tree  that  grew  outside 

the  foss, 
And  reached  to  shake, — but  found,  alas!  each 

bloom  was  in  a  cross, 
Which  put  them  all  beyond  his  power  to  wither 

or  to  blight. 
The  worst  that  he  could  do  was  give  each 

snowy  leaf  a  bite : 

And  there  it  shows  and  always  will;  and  where 
the  Devil  sat 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Upon  the  Locust  bough  you  '11  see  a  scorched 

and  blackened  mat. 
And  now  the  Locust  wears  around  each  limb  a 

spiky  fence 
So  sharp  and  deadly  that  Old  Nick  has  never 

climbed  it  since. 


<- 
V 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


70 


I 


THE  THREE  PHCEBES  OF 
WYNDYGOUL 

HREE  little  Phoebes  came  to 
Wyndygoul  in  the  month  of 
March,  and  sang  their  song  in 
the  trees  by  the  water  till  it 
was  time  to  set  about  nesting. 
The  first  one  was  a  Wise 
Little    Bird, — even  he  sus 
pected  that, — and  after  think- 
^  ^         ing  it  all  out  he  said :  "  I  shall 
build  high  on  the  rock  that  is  above  the 
Lake  of  Wyndygoul,  and  the  deep  water 
shall  be  the  moat  of  my  castle/' 

Then  the  second  one  thought  it  all 
out,  and  he  was  the  Wisest  of  all  the 
Phoebes.  He  simply  knew  it  all,  and  he 
knew  that  he  knew.  So  he  said:  "The 
rock  has  its  advantages,  but  it  is  very  ex- 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


posed  to  the  enemies  above.  I  shall  build 
under  this  low  root  on  the  bank.  It  shel 
ters  all  sides,  my  nest  will  be  concealed, 
and  the  rushing  water  of  the  River  of 
Wyndygoul  shall  be  the  protecting  moat 
of  my  castle." 

But  the  third  little  Phoebe  was  a  Little 
Fool,  and  he  knew  it.  And  he  said  to 
his  wife:  "We  are  so  foolish  we  cannot 
foresee  all  the  dangers — we  do  not  even 
know  what  they  are;  but  we  do  know 
this:  that  there  is  a  Blue  Devil  called 
the  Blue  Jay,  and  a  Brown  Devil  called 
the  Hawk,  and  a  Night  Devil  called  the 
Weasel,  and  we  know  that  they  are  not 
the  biggest  things  on  earth.  There  is 
some  one  here  bigger  than  they.  Let  us 
put  our  trust  in  him.  We  will  build  our 
nest  between  the  sticks  of  his  nest :  per 
haps  he  will  protect  us." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  - 


So  they  did.  They  put  the  nest  right 
in  the  porch  of  his  house.  It  was  not 
high,  and  it  was  not  hidden,  nor  was 
there  any  moat  to  their  castle.  Its  only 
protection  was  an  "influence,"  and  that 
was  invisible;  but  it  was  felt  all  about  the 
porch  that  is  on  the  lawn  that  is  above 
the  Lake  of  Wyndygoul. 

And  there  they  all  sat  on  a 
warm  April  morning  when  the 
nests  were  made,  the  Wise  One 
on  the  rock  singing  "Phoe-bee," 
and  the  Very  Wise  One  under  the 
root  singing  "Phoe~be,"  and  the 
Foolish  One  on  the  porch  singing 
"Phoebe-e." 

They  sang  so  loudly  that  a 
Hawk,  passing  by,  thought, 
"Something  is  up,"  and  he  looked 
for  the  nests;  but  the  one  on  the 
rock  he  could  not  reach,  the  one 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


under  the  root  he  could  not  find,  and  the 
one  on  the  porch  he  dared  not  go  near. 

And  the  Weasel  heard  them  and 
thought,  "Oh,  ho!  I  shall  investigate 
this  to-night."  But  the  chilly  water  kept 
him  from  the  two  nests,  and  there  was 
an  uncomfortable  feeling  about  the  porch 
that  he  preferred  to  avoid. 

But  there  came  at  length  the 
Blue  Devil  called  the  Jay.  When 
he  heard  the  singing  he  said: 
'Where  there  are  songs  there  are 
nests."  And  he  found  where  the 
nests  were,  by  watching  their 
owners.  So  he  flew  to  the  rock 
and  looked  in  that  nest.  It  was 
finished,  but  empty.  "Very  good," 
said  the  Blue  Jay;  "  I  can  wait." 

Then  he  flew  to  the  root  and 
looked  into  that  nest,  and  there 
was  one  egg. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


"  Oh,  ho ! "  said  the  Jay,  "  this  is  good 
luck,  but  not  enough.  I  know  that 
Phoebes  lay  more  than  one  egg.  I  can 
wait."  So,  though  his  beak  watered  a 
little,  he  let  it  alone  and  went — but  no; 
he  did  not  go  to  the  porch,  because  the 
man  had  made  an  "influence"  there,  and 
it  was  repugnant  to  the  Blue  Jay. 

And  the  three  little  Phoebes  sang  mer 
rily  their  morning-song  in  the  trees  by  the 
Lake  of  Wyndygoul. 

Next  morning  the  Blue  Jay  went  over 
to  the  rock  nest,  and  there  was  one  egg 
in  it,  and  he  said:  ''Very  good  as  far  as 
it  goes,  but  I  can  wait.  I  '11  see  you  later." 

Then  he  went  to  the  nest  under  the 
root, — a  very  hard  nest  to  find  it  had  been, 
—and  there  were  two  eggs.  The  Blue 
Jay  turned  his  wicked  head  on  one  side 
and  counted  them  with  his  right  eye,  then 
on  the  other  side  and  counted  them  with 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


his  left  eye,  and  said:  "This  is  better, 
but  I  know  that  a  Phoebe  lays  more  than 
two  eggs.  I  can  wait." 

He  did  not  go  to  the  porch.  He  had 
his  own  reasons.  And  next  morning  the 
three  little  Phoebes  sang  their  three  little 
songs  in  the  trees  by  the  Lake  of  Wyn- 
dygoul. 

But  the  Blue  Jay  came  as  before,  and 
he  looked  at  the  nest  in  the  rock,  and 
said:  "Oh,  ho!  there  are  two  eggs  now. 
Keep  on,  my  friends,  keep  on;  this  is  true 
charity.  You  are  going  to  feed  the  hun 
gry.  I  think  I  will  wait  a  little  longer." 

Then  he  went  to  the  root  above  the 
water,  and  in  that  nest  were  three  eggs. 
"Very  good,"  said  the  Blue  Jay.  "  A 
Phoebe-bird  may  lay  four  or  even  five 
eggs,  but  give  me  a  sure  thing."  So  he 
swallowed  the  three  eggs  in  the  root  nest. 

And  next  morning  there  were  only  two 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


little  Phoebes  singing  happily  in  the  trees 
by  the  Lake  of  Wyndygoul. 

But  the  Blue  Jay  came  around  again 
two  days  later,  and  he  called  only  at  the 
rock  nest.  He  looked  out  of  his  right 
eye,  and  then  out  of  his  left.  Yes,  there 
were  four  eggs  in  it  now.  "  I  know  when 
a  nest  is  ripe,"  said  he,  and  he  swallowed 
them  all  and  tore  down  the  nest.  Then 
the  little  Wise  Phoebe  came  and  saw  it, 
and  was  so  heart-broken  with  sorrow  that 
he  tumbled  into  the  lake  and  was  drowned. 

Next  morning  there  was  only  one  lit 
tle  Phoebe  that  merrily  sang  in  the  trees 
by  the  Lake  of  Wyndygoul. 

But  the  Very  Wisest  Phoebe  began  to 
say  to  himself:  "  I  made  a  mistake.  I  built 
too  high  up.  My  nest  was  all  right,  it 
was  perfect,  but  a  little  too  high." 

So  he  began  a  new  nest  low  down,  close 
to  the  water,  under  the  same  black  root, 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


by  the  River  of  Wyndygoul,  and  the  Blue 
Jay  could  not  reach  it  then ;  he  only  got 
wet  in  trying. 

But  one  night,  when  there  were  three 
more  eggs,  and  the  Wisest  Phoebe  was  sit 
ting  on  them,  a  great  Mink  put  his  head 
out  of  the  water  and  gobbled  up  Phoebe, 
eggs,  and  all. 

And  the  next  morning  there  was  only 
one  little  Phoebe-bird  with  his  nest,  and 
that  was  the  Foolish  One  that  knew  he  was 
foolish,  and  that  built  in  the  porch  of  the 
house  that  stood  on  the  hill  that  is  close 
by  the  Lake  of  Wyndygoul.  And  he 
sang  all  that  spring,  and  his  nest  was  soon 
filledwith  growing  little  ones.  And  they 
got  bigger  and  bigger,  till  they  were  too  big 
for  the  nest;  and  at  length  they  all  fledged 
and  flew,  and  lived  happily  ever  after  in 
the  trees  by  the  Lake  of  Wyndygoul. 

MORAL :   Wisdom  is  its  ocwn  reward. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


78 


THE  ROAD  TO  FAIRYLAND 


Do  you  seek  the  road  to  Fairyland  ? 

I  '11  tell;  it  's  easy,  quite. 
Wait  till  a  yellow  moon  gets  up 

O'er  purple  seas  by  night, 
And  gilds  a  shining  pathway 

That  is  sparkling  diamond  bright. 
Then,  if  no  evil  power  be  nigh 

To  thwart  you,  out  of  spite, 
And  if  you  know  the  very  words 

To  cast  a  spell  of  might, 
You  get  upon  a  thistledown, 

And,  if  the  breeze  is  right, 
You  sail  away  to  Fairyland 

Along  this  track  of  light. 


» 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


COMFORT 

Sheet -lightning  is  for  Summer  heat, 

It  never  strikes  the  ground; 
Chain-lightning  comes  with  danger  fleet 

And  thunder's  awful  sound. 
But  prithee  be  not  troubled, 

It  need  not  cause  you  fear: 
The  thunderbolt  that  kills  you 

You  will  neither  see  nor  hear. 


K  A  LE,  M 


•  o 


f  «tht 


<r^: 


O  E.R 


L 


'c     ^ 


COLD 


A  THE  SEASONS          I 

i.  on  Chaska-water  i 

444444444114444* 


JS 


THE  AWAKENING  DAYS  4 

4 

1444444444444444 


' 


tcl 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  AWAKENING  DAYS  ON 
CHASKA-WATER 

HITER  than  death 
was  Chaska-water, 
paler  than  fear.  Well 
had  the  Ice-demons 

worked;  swift  and  sure  had  their  arrows 

sped.   Only  the  waste  of  snow  was  there. 

Nothing  was  left  that  moved  or  cried  or 

rustled  on  Chaska-water. 

Oh,  Moon  that  swung  in  the  silent  sky, 

knew  ye  ever  so  fearful  a  stillness? 

Oh,  black  cloud  blocking 'the  blacker 

sky,  was  there  ever  so  awful  a  deadness? 

Tense — tenser — snap ! 

The  breaking  had  come — notasound,not 
a  move,  but  a  feeling.  Up  from  the  south 
came  a  gentle  breath,  a  fanning  too  faint 


WOODMYTH  &   FABLE 


for  a  south  wind;  only  a  feeling  bearing 
a  voice  that  reached  not  ears,  but  our  being, 
and  told  of  a  coming — a  coming. 

A  snow-lump  fell  from  a  fir-tree  and 
ruffled  the  white  on  the  water.  *  *  Coming, 
coming!"  it  sang. 

A  drop  of  water  rolled  from  a  sand 
bank  and  dimpled  the  white  on  the  water, 
with  a  "  Coming,  coming! " 

Trronk — trronk — trronk,  in  the  sky  to  the 
southward. 

Trronk — trronk — trronk,  the  flying  bu 
glers  come. 

TRRONK  -  -  TRRONK  -  -  TRRONK,  and 
louder.  An  arrow,  a  broad-headed  ar 
row,  appears. 

TRONK  —  TRONK  —  TRONK,  and  a 
whirring  of  pinions,  and  the  broad  arrow 
grows  to  an  army — an  army  of  buglers. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Hark  how  they  shake  all  the  fir-trees! 
See  how  they  stir  the  small  snow-slides! 

TRONK— TRONK-TRONK,  and  the  ice 
on  the  lake  is  a-shiver. 

TRONK— TRONK— TRONK,  and  the  rill 
that  was  dead  is  a-running. 

TRONK— TRONK— TRONK,  and  the  stars 
are  lost. 

TRONIC  -  -TRONK  -  -TRONK, 

and  the  sun  comes  up  to  blaze  on  the 
Chaska-water.  Red  and  gold  and  bright 
is  the  sun,  silver  the  bugles  blowing. 

TRONK,  coming,  coming,  coming,  and 
the  clamor  is  lost  in  the  northlands.  The 
heralds  have  sped  with  the  tidings. 

"Coming,  coming!"  the  Cranes  are 
crying. 

"Coming,  coming!"  the  Woodpecker 
drums. 

*  *  Coming,  coming ! "  the  Reeds  whisper, 
rejoicing  and  rasping  together.  Only  the 


K, 

37 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


snow-drifts  weep,  and  their  tears  in  a  thou 
sand  rills  run  down,  melting  the  snow  and 
sawing  the  ice  as  they  trickle  on  Chaska- 
water. 

Open   the  stretches   of  water  now; 
Gulls  and  Terns  and  Ducks  are  there, 
Divers  and  Butterflies,  Midges  and  Gnats, 
singing  and  shouting,  even  while  silent— 
" Coming,  coming,  coming!" 

But  loudest  of  all  is  the  calm,  clear 
sky  of  warmest  blue,  with  a  golden  sun, 
a  golden  ball  in  the  great  over-bowl. 

"Coming, coming,  coming ! "  It  booms 
in  silence,  and  still  looks  down,  and  all  is 
expectant — awaiting . 

"Coming, coming!"  And  the  myriad 
heralds'  cries  have  melted  and  softened 
to  a  world-wide  gentle  murmur,  almost  a 
hush — the  hush  in  the  pageant  that  fol 
lows  the  heralds'  announcement. 

It  came  at  last :  not  from  the  south  or 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


the  east  or  the  west,  not  from  the  skies  of 
promise,  but  from  the  sand  at  the  edge  of 
a  dwindling  snow-drift,  up  from  the  earth 
it  came.  Up  to  the  light  of  the  golden 
sun  in  a  warm  blue  sky,  raised  and  gazed 
a  golden  star  in  a  warm  blue  bowl — the 
Sun-god  flower,  the  Sand-hill  bloom. 

It  sprang,  and  it  spread  like  a  fire  on 
the  plains,  and  it  heaved  and  it  drifted 
like  opal  snow  —  like  lilacs  all  sprinkled 
with  golden  dust. 

And  this  is  the  Sand-bloom  born  of 
the  Spring ;  this  is  the  Spring-bloom  born 
of  the  Sand.  This  is  the  darling  the 
heralds  announced;  and  Spring  is  on 
Chaska-water.  ' 


89 


V 


4          THE  SEASONS 
i.  on  Chaska-water 

*****£**££*4**** 


THE  THUNDER-BIRD 


4 

4 
* 


r 

WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


THE  THUNDER-BIRD  ON 
CHASKA-WATER 

EAD  was  the  wind  on 
Chaska-water. 

Gone  were  the   living 
breezes. 

Long  had  the  winter  been  banished, 
and  the  sheen  of  the  blue  on  the  hills  of 
the  brown  was  lost  in  the  screening  of 
leafage. 

Life  there  was  in  the  pool,  in  the  bush, 
in  the  marsh  and  the  wood:  life,  life  in 
a  precious  abundance,  but  life  that  was 
heavy  with  heat-sleep. 

Heavy  hung  the  reeds  and  the  cat 
tails;  heavy  and  limp  the  leather-soft 
leaves  of  the  aspen. 

Heavy  and  hot  and  dry  were  the  Wolf- 
willows  thick  on  the  ridges. 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


Hot  and  dry  and  listless  the  Snake; 
dusty  and  hot  was  the  Redtail. 

A  day  and  a  week,  and  the  air  grew 
hotter  and  deadlier — fiercer  than  heat  in 
the  sweat-lodge;  and  muffled  was  every 
face,  like  the  dead,  in  blankets — in 
visible  blankets. 

Instead  of  a  sky  was  a  coppery  bowl, 
that  fitted  tight  down  at  the  world-rim. 

The  song  of  the  birds  had  faded  and 
died ;  there  was  no  sound  in  the  branches. 

There  was  no  song  but  the  hot-weather 
bug,  that  chtrrrecfas  he  added  his  torment. 

"  Better  far  was  the  onset  of  Peboan, 
for  he  gave  a  warning.  Better,  for  we 
could  escape  to  the  south,  but  now  we 
are  buried  and  helpless." 

Baked  in  their  shells  were  the  un- 
hatched  birds;  roasted  the  feet  of  the 
downlings ;  and  when,  in  the  morning,  the 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  <"  y 


mother  Grouse  clucked  hoarsely  to  her 
brood,  there  was  no  answer,  for  dead  were 
they  lying  around  her. 

O  Wabung!  the  Wind  of^  the  Morn 
ing,  O  Mudjeekeewis,  the  West  Wind! 
are  ye  dead?  Are  ye  dead? 

O  Master  of  Life!  art  thou  sleeping? 

Mes-cha-cha-gan-is !  thou  swiftest  of 
runners,  take  word. 

Pai-hung!  thou  trumpet-voiced  herald 
away. 

Chewusson !  best  loved  of  singers,  pro 
claim  to  the  Master  our  fearful  condi 
tion. 

But  Mes-cha-cha-gan-is  was  lying  as 
dead.  Pai-hung  was  feeble,  and  Che 
wusson  silent  as  Pauguk.  Only  the  Hot- 
weather  Bug,  the  Cicada,  was  heard  as 
he  sang,  as  though  glad  of  our  torment, 
"B-z-z-z-z-z." 

And  louder  in  glee  he  sang  and  thrilled 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


and  rejoiced  in  his  moment — "^B-z-z-z- 
z-z-z. 

And  louder — till  Anee-mee-ki  was 
awaked;  not  the  Master,  but  he  of  the 
Wings  and  the  Thunder. 

"What  stifles  the  Chaska-land?  What 
murders  the  Middle-folk?  The  big  bronze 
Over-bowl, — the  lid  of  the  Evil  One, — 
killing  the  air,  killing  the  rain." 

And  he  flew  down  on  it  like  a  Night- 
hawk,  stooping  and  booming — flew  so  it 
rumbled  beneath  him. 

But  it  moved  not. 

Then  he  struck  with  his  mountain- 
splitter,  so  it  rumbled  and  rang;  and  again, 
so  it  split. 

And  the  Evil  One  rushed  hot-breathed 
to  attack  him. 

Bang!  thunder!  he  smote  on  the  Death- 
bowl — so  it  crashed,  but  the  red  arrows 
flamed  and  rebounded. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


The  Evil  One  tore  up  an  oak  for  a 
club. 

Bang!  Baim-wa — again,  so  the  sky 
was  dark  with  clouds  of  dust,  the  gloom 
and  the  heat  were  dreadful,  and  frightful 
the  swishing  of  pinions,  the  eye-flashing 
glances  were  fearful,  and  the  fighters  were 
hot-breathed  and  cold-breathed,  as  they 
rumbled  and  pounded. 

CRACK!  BANG!  and  the  bowl  was 
a-shiver.  Swish,  flash,  ha-roo!  Roll! 
Roll!  BAIM-WA,  battler,  warrior,  fighter! 

Bang!  Baim-wa,  again  and  again,  and 
the  rain  of  a  month  withheld  came  roar 
ing  in  rivers  downward. 

Crack!  arrows  of  light;  crash!  war- 
clubs  of  power,  as  the  two  were 
a-swirl,  in  the  battle,  on  the  hills  of 
the  Chaska  -  water  -  -  tossing,  dashing, 
bending  the  groves ;  pelting  with  arrows 


98 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


and  spears  and  a  sky  full  of  hail;  wreck 
ing  the  trees  and  flowers,  smashing  the 
birds,  jarring  the  hills,  tilting  the  lake  from 
end  to  end  so  its  waters  went  foaming  and 
racing.  Flying  coppery  fragments  in  the 
sky ;  cold  wind  pursuing  the  hot  wind ; 
a  broad  and  trampled  pathway  across 
all  the  Chaska-land  where  the  two  had 
united  in  battle. 

Down,  down  on  all  sides  fall  the 
shards  of  the  bowl.  The  blue  sky  is 
appearing.  Down,  down  to  the  margin 
they  fall — and  are  lost. 

The  pent-up  rain  has  been  emptied: 
only  the  gentle  shower  of  last  night  is 
now  falling.  The  frightened  lake  looks 
pleasantly  blue  and  rippling.  The  cool 
breeze  is  abroad;  and  out  of  a  thicket 
all  trampled  and  smashed  by  the  fighters 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


comes  the  voice  of  the  gentlest  and  sim 
plest  of  singers — the  green-leaf  singer— 
the  Vireo. 

The  spirit  bird,  so  frail  that  an  unkind 
breath,  a  falling  flower,  might  kill  him, 
without  a  puissant  guardian,  what  could 
he  do? 

But  there  is  no  fear  in  his  voice,  no 
broken  plume  in  his  wing;  he  is  un- 
wounded  and  fearless  as  he  softly  sings: 

"Hear — hear  me, 
Hear — hear  me." 

A  song  of  the  bluest  sky  he  sings, 
of  the  greenest  leaf,  of  the  freshest  airs 
and  the  rippling  lake;  a  song  of  the 
sweetest  days,  for  now  is  the  calm  sum 
mer  weather  abroad — aglow  on  the 
Chaska-water. 


K/- 

\  100 


xf 


*  THE  SEASONS 

on  Chaska-water 

444444441444*44* 

4  i*  *^S '  ^fc^^u     ^'*  *"" 


¥ 

lr?,  • 


THE  SMOKING-DAYS 


! 

f 

I 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


SMOK1NG-DAYS  ON 


HE  Red  moon  waned  over 
Chaska-water,  the  Red 
and  the  Hunting  and  Leaf- 
falling  moons. 

Signal-fires  rose  on  the 
hills  by  the  lake. 

Signals  to  all:  "Come  to  council." 
Teepees  were  seen    on  the    hills- 
painted  and  beautiful   teepees,  red  and 
orange  and  brown,  the  tents  of  the  tribes 
now  assembling. 
A  herald  outcries : 

"The  days  grow  short  and  the  Mad 
moon  comes.  Old  Peboan's  scouts  have 
spied  out  our  camp.  Oh,  blacken  your 
faces  for  Chaska-water." 

That   night   came    the    hostile   spies 


>1 

!I03    / 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


again.  There  was  fear  on  the  camp  in 
the  morning. 

The  spruce-spires  made  uneasy  sounds. 
A  going  there  was  in  the  tree-tops;  a 
shivering  sound  in  the  aspens.  And  the 
hard  white  clouds  above  bumped  together 
like  ice-chunks  in  the  spring  flood  of 
Assiniboinisipi. 

The  loud  trumpeters  crossed  the  sky; 
the  squawkers  were  squawking;  the  rum- 
biers  were  rumbling;  a  thousand  added 
to  the  clamor  bom  of  the  fear  that  was 
bom  of  the  clamor. 

'The  White  foe  comes;  we  are  as 
the  brood  of  Shesheep  when  Wah-gush 
finds  them  afoot  and  a  mile  from  the 
water.  We  are  caught  unready." 

There  was  confusion  and  panic — till 
Ninna-bo-jou  was  apprised,  and,  vexed 
at  their  fear,  proclaimed:  "I  alone  plan 


(  104 

WOOD  MYTH  &  FABLE 


for  the  future;  take  ye  what  I  send  ye"; 
and  he  blew  a  blast  that  shook  down  all 
the  painted  teepee  covers;  only  the  poles 
were  left,  standing  in  rows,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Chaska-water. 

Hear,  now,  ye  trembling  Teepee-folk ! 
War  there  is  coming,  but  Truce  for  ten 
days  there  shall  be,  while  I  smoke  my 
peace-pipe ;  Peace  while  its  smoke  is  up- 
curling.  Prepare  ye,  prepare  for  your 
trial  of  hardship." 

Down  on  the  bank  of  the  Chaska- 
water  sat  he  a-smoking;  and  the  Teepee- 
folk,  hastening,  made  ready. 

The  Bluejay  began  another  hoard  of 
acorns. 

The  Beaver  added  two  span  to  his  dam. 

The  Muskrat  piled  on  one  more  layer 
of  rushes  to  his  hut-thatch. 

The  Partridge  dusted  his  plumage,  so 
it  might  fluff  out  more  fully. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


The  Spruce-borer  went  his  length 
more  deep  into  the  solid  tree. 

The  Fox  shook  and  licked  his  tail  into 
shape  for  a  muffler. 

The  Red  Squirrel  chewed  ten  more 
bundles  of  bark  for  his  blanketing. 

The  Chipmunk  stuffed  another  hand 
ful  of  earth  into  his  alleyway. 

The  Gopher  rushed  forth  for  a  final 
load  of  grass,  took  one  look  backward  at 
the  sun,  and  hid  below. 

The  Trumpeter  Cranes,  the  Swans, 
and  the  Geese  went  sailing  away  to  the 


The  last  Red  Rose  dropped  her  pet 
als  five — the  last  of  the  race  of  the 
prairie. 

Still  Ninna-bo-jou  sat  a-smoking.  Over 
the  tree-tops  circled  the  smoke, — for  calm 
and  bright  and  warm  was  the  weather,— 
over  the  hills  and  the  lake,  till  the  landscape 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


was  veiled  in  a  haze.  A  mystical  haze 
and  a  splendor,  a  dreamy  calm,  was  over 
all,  for  this  was  the  Peace  of  the  Smoking- 
days.  This  was  the  Indian  Summer. 

For  ten  fair  days  the  Peace  was 
smoked.  The  Fliers  had  gone  and  the 
Dwellers  made  ready.  Then  Ninna-bo- 
jou  arose,  and  departing,  he  shook  the  ash 
from  his  pipe.  A  rising  wind  drifted  its 
whiteness  over  the  hills,  blew  all  the  smoke 
from  the  landscape.  Now  another  feeling 
spreads  abroad.  The  moon  of  the  Falling 
leaves  has  waned,  the  Mad  moon  comes, 
awesome  and  chilling  and  dark.  At  morn 
there  are  spears  of  white  on  the  ponds, 
there  are  tracks  and  signs — the  signs  of 
an  on-coming  enemy,  of  a  foe  irresisti 
ble.  For  this  is  the  death  of  the  Red 
Rose  days;  this  is  the  dawn  of  the  Mad 
moon  gloom.  This  is  the  end  of  the  joy  and 
the  light — the  coming  of  Kabibonokka. 


xf 

106 


4 

i 


THE  SEASONS 
on  Chaska-water 


f 

i 


THE  DEMON  DANCE 


^o 


4 

* 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  DEMON  DANCE  ON 
CHASKA-WATER 

LUE  in  its  tawny  hills  is 
Chaska-water.  Black  are 
the  spruce-trees  that  raise 
their  spires  on  its  banks. 
Ducks  and  Gulls  in  myri 
ads  are  here,  and  the  shallows  are  dotted 
with  Rat-houses.  The  Loon  and  the 
Grebe  find  harvest  in  its  darker  reaches. 
The  Blue  Heron  and  the  Rail  stalk  and 
skulk  on  its  sedgy  margin.  Fish  swarm  in 
its  depths,  Deer  and  Rabbits  on  its  banks, 
Birds  in  its  trees  abound.  For  Chaska- 
water,  rippling  bright  or  darkling  blue,  is 
a  summer  home  of  the  Sun-god.  Ninna- 
bo-jou  is  its  guardian  and  its  indwellers 
are  his  special  care.  All  through  the 
summer  he  taught  them  and  led  them- 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


showed  them  the  way  of  their  living, 
taught  them  the  rights  of  the  hunter ;  all 
through  the  autumn  he  led  them. 

Then  came  the  cold. 

Down  from  the  north  it  came  riding — 
riding  with  wicked  old  Peboan ;  and  the 
Red  Linnets  swept  before  it  like  sparks 
in  the  van  of  a  prairie  fire,  and  the  White 
Owl  followed  after  like  ash  in  the  wake 
of  a  prairie  fire. 

Down  from  the  sky  there  fell  a  white 
blanket,  the  Sun-god's  blanket,  and  Nin- 
na-bo-jou  cried:  "Now  I  sleep.  Let  all 
my  creatures  sleep  and  be  at  peace,  even 
as  Chaska- water  sleeps." 

The  Ducks  and  Geese  flew  far  to  the 
south,  the  Woodchuck  went  to  his  couch, 
the  Bear  and  the  Snake  and  the  Bullfrog, 
the  Tree-bugs,  slept;  and  the  blanket 
covered  them  all. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


But  some  were  rebellious. 

The  Partridge  safe  under  the  snow, 
the  Hare  safe  under  the  brush,  and  the 
Muskrat  safe  under  the  ice,  said:  "Why 
should  we  fear  old  Peboan  ?  "  Then  the 
Marten  and  the  Fox  and  the  Mink  said : 
'  While  the  Partridge  and  the  Hare  and 
the  Muskrat  are  stirring  abroad,  we  will 
not  fail  to  hunt  them."  So  they  all  broke 
the  truce  of  the  Sun-god,  war-waging 
when  peace  was  established. 

But  they  reckoned  not  with  the  Ice-de 
mons,  the  sons  of  the  Lake  and  the  Winter, 
whose  kingdom  they  now  were  invading, 
and  vengeance  was  hot  on  their  warring. 

The  sun  sank  lower  each  day;  the 
North  Wind  reigned,  and  the  Ice-demons, 
born  of  the  Lake  and  the  Winter,  grew 
bigger  and  stronger,  and  nightly  danced, 
in  the  air  and  on  the  ice. 


N 

r  "3 1 

WOODMYTH   &   FABLE 


Deep  in  the  darkest  part  of  the  dark 
month,  in  the  Moon  of  the  darkest  days, 
they  met  in  their  wildest  revel;  for  this 
was  their  season  of  sovereignty.  Then 
did  they  hold  their  war-dance  on  the  ice 
of  the  Chaska-water,  dancing  in  air  like 
flashes  of  rosy  lightning --in  a  great 
circle  they  danced.  And  they  shot  their 
shining  deadly  arrows  in  the  air,  frost-ar 
rows  that  pierced  all  things  like  a  death ; 
they  pounded  the  ice  with  their  war- 
clubs  as  they  danced,  and  set  the  snow 
a-swirling  louder,  harder,  faster. 

There  were  sounds  in  the  air  of  going, 
sounds  in  the  earth  of  grinding,  and  of 
groaning  in  Chaska-water. 

44 1  am  not  afraid,"  said  the  Partridge, 
as  fear  filled  her  breast :  "  I  can  hide  in  the 
kindly  snow-drift."  "I have  no  fear,"  said 
the  trembling  Marten:  "  my  home  is  a  hoi- 


1 
WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  ^   7 


low,  immovable  oak."  *  What  care  I?" 
cried  the  unhappy  Muskrat :  "  for  the  thick 
ice  of  Chaska-water  is  my  roof-guard." 

Faster  danced  the  Demons,  louder  they 
sang  in  their  war-dance;  glinting,  their  ar 
rows  flew,  splitting,  impaling,  glancing. 

Fear  was  over  the  lake,  was  over  the 
woods. 

The  Mink  forgot  to  slay  the  Muskrat, 
and,  terror-tamed,  groveled  beside  him. 
The  Fox  left  the  Partridge  unharmed,  and 
the  Lynx  and  the  Rabbit  were  brothers. 
Tamed  by  the  Fear  were  they  who  had 
scoffed  at  the  Peace  of  the  Sun-god,  and 
trembling  they  hid  in  the  snow-drift,  in  the 
tree-trunk,  in  the  ice — trembling,  but  inly 
defiant. 

Whoop  I  went  the  Ice-demons,  dancing 
louder  and  higher.  A  mile  in  the  air  went 
their  hurtling  spears. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Waft!  whoop!  crack!  and  they  pounded 
the  ice. 

Wah!  hy-ya!  louder  and  faster,  with 
war-arrows  glancing,  they  whirled  in  the 
war-dance,  Wah!  hy-ya!  and  snow-drifts 
went  curling  like  smoke,  betraying  the 
Partridge  and  Rabbit. 

Flash  !  went  the  frost-arrows  and  pierced 
them. 

WHOOP!  hy-ya!  crack!  poom!  rang 
the  Ice-demons'  clubs,  and  the  oak-tree 
was  riven  asunder.  Bared  were  the  Mar 
ten,  the  Fisher. 

Flash!  ping!  andthe  frost-arrows  pierced 
them. 

Whoop!  clang!  on  the  ice  they  circled, 
and  louder,  still  louder.  Poom  <whoooop  ! 
and  the  ice-field  was  riven;  from  margin 
to  margin  the  frost-crack  went  skirling. 

Wah!  bairn!  and  it  zigzagged  in  branches, 


I 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


so  the  Mink  and  the  Muskrat  in  hiding 
were  thrust  into  view.  Ping!  zip!  and  the 
frost-arrows  pierced  them. 

Whoop-a-hy-a  !  whoop-a-hy-a  I  round 
and  round  in  swirling  snow  and  splintered 
trees  and  riven  ice,  with  hurtling  spears 
and  glancing  shafts;  up  from  the  ice  a 
mile  on  high  and  away,  A  TRAMPLING, 
A  GLANCING,  a  trampling,  a  glancing, 
a  twinkling;  and  fainter,  a  glancing,  a 
glinting,  a  stillness — a  stillness  most  aw 
ful  ;  for  this  is  the  Peace  of  the  Sun-god. 
This  is  the  Peace  in  the  dark  of  the 
darkest  Moon.  I  have  seen  it;  you  may 
see  it,  away  on  the  Chaska-water. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  INDIAN  AND 
THE  ANGEL  OF  COMMERCE 

HERE  is  a  stately  Angel 
with  a  marble  brow  and  a 
sword  that  strikes  straight 
down.  There  is  no  Angel 
more  calm  and  strong  or  more  relentless. 
His  pathway  is  straight;  no  pity  ever 
turned  that  sword — it  always  strikes 
straight  down. 

There  be  wrongs  that  he  heeds  not; 
there  be  rights  that  he  helps  not.  There 
is  no  anger  in  his  heart — only  immuta 
bility,  intention,  directness,  progression, 
and  preterpotency. 

There  hath  never  yet  been  human 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


purpose  that  lasted  without  his  aid.  Im 
perial  Rome  at  length  forgot  his  power, 
essayed  to  turn  his  trail,  and  the  ready 
sword  struck  down. 

Small  Holland,  led  by  him,  faced  all 
the  world,  and  England  followed  this 
calm  guide  to  lasting  power  and  great 
ness. 

Napoleon  prospered  while  his  path 
was  in  the  Angel's  train;  but  when  he 
tried  to  lead,  and  gave  that  mad,  rebel 
lious  order  to  the  world,  the  Angel  struck 
him  down. 

There  is  no  problem  we  need  fear; 
the  future  has  no  dread  for  me.  States 
men  are  filled  with  high  dismay — South 
America,  China,  the  Turk,  the  Trusts, 
the  Negro  at  home,  are  dreadful  names 
to  men  in  power  who  have  not  marked 
the  Angel's  track — who  have  not  learned 
the  lesson  that  the  Jew  learned  ages 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


back:  that  those  who  follow  have  the 
vanguard  of  his  matchless  power,  and 
those  who  face  him  must  go  down. 

*  What,"  cried  the  Red-man's  friends 

"  what  shall  save  the  Indian,  with  his 

noble   lesson  of  simple   life  and   unav- 


arice  / 


Nothing!  He  was  doomed;  he  was 
dying;  for  he  stood  in  the  Angel's  way. 
But  we,  his  friends,  learned  wisdom.  We 
moved  him  from  the  pathway  and  set 
him  in  the  train  of  the  cold,  resistless  one 
whose  path  is  straight,  and  thus  we  saved 
him. 

He  shall  not  die.  His  lesson  —  of  the 
highest  in  our  time  —  shall  live  and  grow, 
preserved  by  the  awful  Angel,  upheld 
by  the  pitiless  Angel:  the  one  with  the 
changeless,  angerless  front,  and  the  sword 
that  strikes  straight  down. 


iiliiiillr-™ "*:* - : *— : "":wllHb 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


A  RECIPE 

When  the  Oak-leaf  is  the  size  of  a 
Squirrel's  foot,  take  a  stick  like  a  Crow's 
bill  and  make  holes  as  big  as  a  Coon's 
ear  and  as  wide  apart  as  Fox  tracks. 
Then  plant  your  corn,  that  it  may  ripen 
before  the  Chestnut  splits  and  the  Wood- 
chuck  begins  his  winter's  sleep. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


K 

\  « 


THE  BIG  ROUGH  STATUE 

HERE  was  once  a  burly, 
big-chested  Peasant  Boy 
who  had  an  idea.  He  was 
full  of  it,  mad  to  express  it ; 
but  he  did  not  know  how.  He  went  to  a 
rugged  mountain-side  one  night  when  his 
work  was  finished,  and  he  saw  a  great  crag 
standing  out  by  itself.  Then  a  plan  came. 
He  went  every  night  and  worked  at  this 
mass  of  living  rock  till  he  had  shaped  his 
idea  in  stone.  It  was  rough  and  chisel- 
grooved,  unskilfully  worked,  for  he  was 
no  mason,  but  the  main  thought  was 
there — the  lines  of  a  superb  and  colossal 
human  form.  The  pose,  the  expression, 
the  grandeur  of  the  conception,  were 
noble,  as  it  loomed  against  the  sky,  and 
the  message  of  the  maker  was  big — big 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


in  every  part  and  thought.  But  his  people 
would  none  of  it.  They  laughed  at  the 
Rugged  Boy  who  was  unlike  themselves, 
and  he  died  in  obscurity. 

Long  after,  a  Stranger  came  from 
a  far  country  and  discovered  this  great 
statue  of  living  rock  in  its  native  hills.  He 
said,  "This  is  the  work  of  a  Giant,"  and 
he  sent  others  to  see,  till  all  the  world 
knew  and  some  understood,  and  others 
wrote  learnedly  about  the  colossal  mas 
terpiece. 

One  day  there  came  a  Critic  who  was 
kindly  disposed  toward  the  great  statue. 
He  said  it  was  "good,  quite  good,"  but 
he  regretted  its  clumsy  workmanship,  its 
poor  technic.  So  he  set  himself  a  life- 
task.  He  began  on  one  of  the  huge 
rugged  bumps  that  stood  for  the  statue's 
fingers,  and  he  filed  and  he  polished,  and 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


he  polished  and  he  filed,  for  half  his  life 
time,  till  he  had  carried  out  the  exact  form 
of  the  finger-tip  and  the  nail  and  the 
wrinkles  on  the  joint.  He  even  suggested 
the  grain  of  the  skin  and  implanted  some 
scattering  hairs.  Last  of  all,  he  painted 
it  flesh-color  and  placed  dirt  under  the 
nail,  for  he  was  a  Realist. 

Now  the  people  came,  and  when  they 
saw  how  like  a  finger-tip  the  lump  of 
stone  had  become  and  how  very  real  the 
dirt  was,  they  all  fell  down  and  wor 
shiped.  They  said,  "This  is  a  great 
Master,"  and  they  loaded  the  Realist 
with  honors  and  riches. 

It  was  many  years  before  kind  nature 
restored  the  rugged  surface  of  the  colossus. 

MORAL:  It  's  the  add  of  Time  that 
proves  the  gold. 


WOODMYTH   &   FABLE 


APPETITE  AND  FOOD 


When  appetite  and  food  are  given, 
The  two  together  make  a  heaven ; 
But  leave  out  one,  and,  strange  to  tell, 
The  other  by  itself  is  hell. 


\ 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  FAIRY  PONIES 

SY1 

7$  ROSY  boy  once  dreamed  a  dream 

About  a  Fairy  Queen 
Who  came  and  promised  him  a  wish— 
The  best  he  'd  ever  seen. 

He  thought  of  things  to  pet  and  love, 

Of  stuff  to  eat  and  wear; 
But  last  cried:  "Two  white  ponies  give 

To  take  me  everywhere!'* 

The  Fairy  Queen  said:  "They  are  yours; 

You  '11  find  them  when  you  rise, 
Each  in  its  proper  stable, 

And  each  a  living  prize." 

The  child  awoke;  the  vision  fled. 

Alas !  it  was  so  sweet ! 
But  he  found  the  ponies  in  his  socks — 

His  own  two  pearly  feet. 


r 

\  i* 


s     > 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


WITCHES'  LUCK 


The  last  to  fall  don't  wait  to  see. 


Thirteen  moons  shine  bright  each  year, 

Thirteen  twigs  to  burn  are  here. 

The  first  to  fall  shall  bring  you  glee,  \ 

1 
'> 


^K* 

r 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  FABLE  OF  THE 
YANKEE  CRAB 

AM  A,  mama,"  cried  the 
little  Crab,  "  see,  there  is  a 
fine  fat  Clam  taking  a  sun- 
bath  as  wide  open  as  can 
be.  I  must  go.  He  is  too  good  to  lose." 
"My  child,"  said  the  old  Crab,  turn 
ing  greenish,  "that  Clam  would  close 
with  a  snap  and  cut  off  both  your  pincers 
if  you  did  but  get  near  enough  to  touch 
him." 

"But,  mama,  I  should  take- 
'That  will  do,  my  child;  you  are  not 
to  go  near  the  dangerous  monster." 

But  this  little  Crab  was  of  Yankee 
stock.  He  had  a  scheme.  He  waited 
till  his  mother's  eyes  were  pulled  in,  and 
then  slipped  softly  behind  the  Clam  that 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


lay  spread  open  like  a  rat-trap.  He  had 
brought  a  large  pebble,  and  now  dropped 
it  neatly  into  the  open  Clam,  close  up 
to  the  hinge.  In  vain  then  the  power 
ful  muscles  tried  to  close  the  shell.  The 
Crab  found  ample  room  to  insert  one 
pincer,  and  when  last  seen  he  was  com 
fortably  seated,  one  arm  around  the  help 
less  Clam,  and  with  the  other  pulling  out 
its  delicious  fatness  bit  by  bit,  and  cram 
ming  it  into  his  mouth. 

MORAL :  Mother  does  not  know  it  all. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


III!' 


IE  Bullfrog  fills  his  little  throat 
And  bellows  once  again 
sso,  bugling  thunder-note 
Across  the  summer  fen. 
A  Bull  might  envy  him  that  voice 

And  wish  that  it  were  his. 
This  seems  to  point  a  moral, 
But  I  don't  know  what  it  is. 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


UP  TO  DATE 

'H,  brothers,  look  at  that  fine 
big  Culex  coming  to  our 
pond!"  cried  Stethorynchus, 
a  lively  little  Stickleback 
that  lived  in  a  marshy  place  near  Yorka- 
delphia. 

"Keep  quiet,  you  fool!"  cried  Cata- 
phractus  (who,  though  he  had  but  two 
sticklers,  had  a  broad,  intelligent  forehead, 
and  was  highly  respected  among  the  Gas- 
terosteidae).  "Can't  you  see  she  is  com 
ing  to  lay  her  eggs?" 

"It  is  not  a  Culex  at  all,  you  micro- 
cephalous  idiot;  don't  you  see  by  the 
straight  line  of  her  back  that  that  is  an 
Anopheles?  said  Polyplectron,  with  char 
acteristic  rudeness. 

"So  much  the  better,"  returned  Cata- 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


phractus.  "Culex  certainly  lays  twice  as 
many  eggs  as  Anopheles,  but  she  is  more 
suspicious." 

"  I  never  saw  an  Anopheles  with  spot  ted 
thoracic  segments,"  whispered  Pegrozila, 
peevishly,  for  he  had  a  touch  of  malaria. 

"Well,  Dr.  Howard  has,"  retorted 
Cataphractus,  with  crushing  sarcasm. 
"Hush— sh— sh- 

So  each  of  the  little  Sticklebacks  hid 
behind  a  grass-seed,  hushed,  and  held  his 
gills  until  the  Anopheles  had  laid  over 
one  hundred  lovely  pink  eggs  with  a  sweet 
little  baby  Anopheles  in  each.  Then,  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  the  awful  fate  await 
ing  her  beloved  offspring,  the  Mosquito 
floated  away  with  a  lightsome  ping! 

The  little  Sticklebacks  made  a  rush. 
It  was  who  could  get  there  first.  In  a 
trice  the  floating  eggs  were  rent  to  pieces 


I 

WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


and  devoured.    Then  the  seventeen  little 
Sticklebacks  fluffed  their  gills  in  glee,  and        i 
for  two  hours  afterward  were  full  of  eggs 
and  happiness  and  congratulations  that      / 
their  pond  had  not  been  kerosened. 


MORAL  :  Lives  should  be  weighed,  not      Vj 

tntrJ.  IT 


f 
" 


U 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  GRASSHOPPER  THAT 

MADE  THE  MISSIMO 

VALLEY 

HE  vast  low  Jurassic  Island 
had  been  raised  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  where  now 
the  great  continent  stands. 
A  Matriarchal  Dinosaur  was  leading  her 
ponderous  troop  in  single  file  across  the  up 
heaved  marshy  plain.  A  dry  season  had 
blighted  the  lower  pastures  and  forced 
them  to  travel,  and  as  she  was  about  to 
turn  northerly,  a  Jurassic  Grasshopper 
said  Bizz!  under  her  nose.  The  insect 
is  quite  harmless,  but  it  protects  itself  by 
imitating  the  fearful  bizz  of  the  ancestral 
Rattlesnake.  The  old  Dinosaur  wheeled 
to  one  side  and  raised  her  head.  Her 
little  twinkling  eyes  fell  on  a  rank  green 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


marsh  to  the  eastward,  and  she  now 
turned  and  led  her  troop  to  that.  Each 
day  they  came  to  the  feeding-ground 
along  their  first  discovered  trail,  until  it 
was  worn  deeply. 

Time  went  by.  A  wet  season  made 
the  upland  marsh  a  brimming  lake.  It 
would  have  overflowed  to  the  westward, 
for  this  was  its  lower  side,  but  the  deep- 
worn  trail  of  the  Dinosaurs  offered  an 
outlet  that  enlarged  with  the  yearly  rains 
faster  than  the  slowly  rising  lands  could 
tilt  the  other  way;  and  so  it  became  a 
stream. 

Ages  went  by.  The  great  upheaval 
went  on.  The  Rocky  Mountains  arose. 
The  former  trail  was  now  a  crooked 
river  flowing  eastward,  growing  larger, 
carrying  into  the  shallow  sea  millions  of 
tons  of  clay,  till  that  shallow  sea  became 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  Valley, 
which  might  never  have  existed  had  the 
Dinosaur  been  allowed  to  follow  her 
original  course — a  course  that  would 
have  left  these  vast,  turbid,  land-creative 
waters  free  to  seek  the  Western  Sea: 
and  the  bizz  of  the  harmless  Grasshopper 
did  it  all. 

MORAL  : 

Fall  oft  a  tranquil  cworld  hath  been 
Upset  by  meddling  word,  I  ween. 


WOODMYTH  &   FABLE 


A  KNOTTY  PROBLEM 

'  The  line  between  business  and  rob 
bery  has  never  yet  been  clearly  defined," 
said  the  Blue  Jay,  as  he  swallowed  the 
egg  of  the  Robin,  who  was  off  hunting  for 
worms. 


138 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  SINGLE  WAY 

FAR  up  on  the  Continental 
Divide  the  Mother  Rain- 
cloud  gave  birth  to  two  little 
Rills.  They  were  close  to 
gether,  but  had  different  paths.  "I  shall 
be  a  great  River  and  do  great  things,  for  I 
believe  in  breadth ;  a  hundred  valleys  and 
all  the  plains  shall  know  me,"  said  one, 
as  he  turned  eastward. 

11 1  shall  be  a  River  in  one  valley.  You 
will  think  me  narrow,  but  one  interest  is 
all  I  can  attend  to,"  said  the  other,  as  he 
turned  westward. 

So  they  went  their  divers  ways.  The 
one  to  the  east  chopped  and  changed  its 
course.  It  ran  all  over  the  plains,  each 
year  in  a  new  channel.  It  has  not  yet 
begun  to  scoop  out  a  valley.  It  is  of  no 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


account,  a  scorn  and  reproach;  its  scat 
tered  waters  have  no  power.  It  is  not 
even  a  feature  of  the  big  landscape.  Men 
call  it  the  Platte. 

The  other,  with  no  more  water,  stuck 
to  one  channel  and  sawed  and  sawed  till 
it  made  the  mightiest  gash  in  all  the 
globe;  for  this  is  the  Colorado  River,  and 
the  Grand  Canon  is  the  channel  it  made. 

MORAL :  A  Bull  can  paew  more  earth 
than  an  Ant,  but  he  leaves  no  monument. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


i  i 


A  FABLE  FOR  ARCHITECTS 

NCE  upon  a  time  a  savage 
race  came  into  possession  of 
a  great  island  which  had 
formerly  been  the  home  of  a 
people  far  advanced  in  civilization.  There 
were  traces  of  their  occupancy  every 
where.  In  particular,  the  country  was 
marked  with  tall  chimneys,  all  that  re 
mained  of  the  great  factories  once  used 
by  the  bygone  race.  The  savages  had 
no  knowledge  of  building,  but  they  found 
that  by  putting  a  few  floors  and  ladders  in 
these  chimneys,  puncturing  a  few  holes 
through  the  walls  for  doors  and  windows, 
and  finally  knocking  off  the  upper  half  of 
the  smoke-stack,  they  could  make  for 
^  themselves  a  house,  very  strong,  very  in 
convenient,  but  still  a  possible  dwelling. 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


In  time  these  savages  developed  a  crude 
civilization  of  their  own.  They  acquired 
something  of  the  art  of  building,  and  when 
they  set  about  making  a  new  dwelling 
they  had  always  for  models  those  that  had 
been  their  fathers'  guides.  Accordingly, 
each  new  dwelling  was  made  as  an  im 
mense  factory  chimney;  a  few  holes  were 
punctured  in  its  sides  for  light  and  air, 
floors  were  bungled  in,  the  upper  half  of 
the  chimney  was  pulled  down,  and  lo !  a 
dwelling  expensive,  inconvenient,  and 
absurd,  but  on  the  line  of  the  "  grand  old 
classics"  that  had  been  preserved  by  their 
"  innate  nobleness  and  hallowed  by  tra 
dition." 

This  fable  is  especially  commended  to 
those  architects  who  try  to  turn  everything 
into  a  Greek  temple. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE 
FEATHER  AND  THE  FRUMP 

A  TRAGEDY 


The  Dames  of  Mode  no  longer  wear 
The  plumes  they  used  to  prize; 

They  find  that  Egrets  in  the  hair 
Bring  crow's-feet  to  the  eyes. 


('III!,.    .. 


KA  . 

A,T) 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


FAMILIAR  SAYINGS 


Pa  Porky :  "  It  hurts  me  far  more  than  it 
hurts  you." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


PURPLE  FINCH 

Why  they  should  call  him  Purple  Finch 

I  never  yet  could  think ; 
And  when  I  asked  the  bird  his  hue, 

He  clearly  answered,  "  Pink." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


VEERY  AND  SOLOMON'S 
SEAL 


44  E  wise  men  say  each  growing  thing  in 

y.  nature  has  a  sound: 
But  for  our  dullness,  we  might  hear  sweet  music 

all  around; 
I  mean  not  simply  birds  and  rills,  but  trees, 

flowers,  mosses,  too, 
Are  making  music  exquisite  as  is  their  form  and 

hue. 
So  when  you  see  the  lily's  seal  with  all  its 

chime  of  bells, 
Think  you  how  sweet  must  be  the  peal  their  little 

tinkle  tells. 
Our  dull  ears  miss  the  strains,  but  here  is  one  to 

make  them  reach  us, 
With  finer  ears  and  silver  throat,  the  lily  chime 

to  teach  us. 
The  Veery  in  the  self-same  shade  translates  the 

lily's  ringing, 
"Ah,  weary,  weary,  weary  rest"  both  thrush  and 

bush  are  singing, 


^m$, 


,// 
1 146*- 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 

THE  FRETFUL  PORCUPINE 

In  the  woods  of  Po- 

conic       there       once 

roamed  a  very  discon 
tented  Porcupine.      He  was 
forever  fretting.      He  complained   that 
everything  was  wrong,  till  it  was  per 
fectly  scandalous,  and  the  Great  Spirit, 
getting  tired  of  his  grumbling,  said: 

*  You  and  the  world  I  have  made  don't 
seem  to  fit.  One  or  the  other  must  be 
wrong.  It  is  easier  to  change  you.  You 
don't  like  the  trees,  you  are  unhappy  on 
the  ground  and  think  everything  is  upside 
down,  so  I  '11  turn  you  inside  out  and  put 
you  in  the  water." 

This  was  the  origin  of  the  Shad. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


HOW  THE  CHESTNUT  BURRS 
BECAME 

FTER  Manitou  had  turned 
the  old  Porcupine  into  a 
Shad  the  young  ones  missed 
their  mother  and  crawled 
up  into  a  high  tree  to  look  for  her  com 
ing.  Manitou  happened  to  pass  that 
way,  and  they  all  chattered  their  teeth 
at  him,  thinking  themselves  safe.  They 
were  not  wicked,  only  ill-trained;  some 
of  them,  indeed,  were  at  heart  quite 
good,  but,  oh,  so  ill-trained,  and  they 
chattered  and  groaned  as  Manitou  came 
nearer.  Remembering  then  that  he 
had  taken  their  mother  from  them,  he 
said  :  '  You  look  very  well  up  there,  you 
little  Porkys,  so  you  had  better  stay  there 
for  always,  and  be  part  of  the  tree." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


This  was  the  origin  of  the  chestnut  burrs. 
They  hang  like  a  lot  of  little  porcupines 
on  the  tree-crotches.  They  are  spiny 
and  dangerous,  utterly  without  manners, 
and  yet  most  of  them  have  a  good  little 
heart  inside. 


hi 

H  -49  I 


0,- 


WOODMYTH  &   FABLE 


AN  EXPLANATION 


•  tr 

b  HE  Meddy  she  wuz  sorry 
.©!©.      F°r  her  sister  Sky,  ye  see, 
Coz,  though  her  robe  of  blue  wuz  bright, 
'T  was  plain  as  it  could  be. 

An'  so  she  sent  a  skylark  up 

To  trim  the  Sky  robe  right 
Wi'  daisies  from  the  Meddy 

(Ye  kin  see  them  best  at  night). 

An*  every  scrap  of  blue  cut  out 

To  make  them  daisies  set 
Come  tumbling  down  upon  the  grass 

An'  growed  a  violet. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  S   1 


THE  HEAVEN-SENT  SKUNK 


N|;/ /  ^^i^that  hath  neither  strength 
^.  -^nor  speed  for  his  safety, but 
:?  a  most  devilish  smell,  so  that 
no  creature  will  wittingly  im- 
^!x  peril  himself  with  the  Skunk, 
and  he,  knowing  the  same,  fear- 
eth  nothing  and  fleeth  from  none.  Thus 
it  came  about  that  the  Skunk,  being  on 
the  track  in  the  forefront  of  the  express- 
engine,  fled  not,  but  trusted  in  his  great 
strength,  and  thenceforth  No.  4  was 
known  throughout  all  that  country. 

Now  it  so  fell  out  that  the  hireling  at 
the  station  received  word  of  No.  1  4  ap 
proaching,  which  also  should  be  switched, 
and  he  so  ordered  it.  And  while  he  yet 
tarried,  there  arose  a  great  west  wind,  and 


Nj 

WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


he  sniffed  with  his  nostrils,  and  said: 
'  The  tidings  that  came  were  of  No.  1  4, 
which  should  be  switched;  but  the  smell 
is  like  unto  No.  4,  which  also  cometh 
from  the  west  and  tarrieth  not,  but  passeth 
like  a  whirlwind  of  Dakota  " ; 
and  he  changed  again  the 
switches,  so  that  No.  4  passed  in 
safety  with  three  hundred  aboard.  Here 
endeth  the  tale  of  the  Heaven-sent 
Skunk. 

MORAL:  See  next 

Fable. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  DOINGS  OF  A  LITTLE  FIB 

HY,  O  Sequibonosa,  do 
the  Canoe-Birch  and 
the  Balsam  grow  not  to 
gether  like  good  neigh 
bors,  and  why  does  the  lightning  pass 
them  by  to  strike  the  Oak  and  the  Ash  ?  " 
'  Well  found,  my  little  Sha-ka-skanda- 
wayo  !  Now  I  know  you  have  the  eye  of 
the  hunter,  for  you  have  seen  a  truth. 
Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you  of  the  ancient 
things  that  made  it  so." 

Here,  then,  is  his  tale  done  into  modem 
English,  in  case  there  should  be  some 
who  do  not  speak  Ojibway. 

Long  ago  a  little  idle  Rumor  was  flit 
ting  from  tree  to  tree  in  the  woods  of 
Shebandowan.  He  had  nothing  to  dp 
but  to  preen  his  wings  and  move  his  ears, 


J 

V 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


which  were  very  long.  Though  idle,  he 
was  yet  a  busybody,  which  often  hap 
pens.  He  had  just  peeped  into  the  nest 
of  the  Skandal-bird  to  see  if  any  young 
were  hatched;  but  it  was  empty,  so  he 
sat  yawning.  Just  then  the  Star-girl  came 
tumbling  down  from  the  sky  to  be  the 
first  of  the  Red  Race.  She  came,  not 
like  an  arrow,  head  first,  nor  like  a  Duck, 
feet  first,  but  skating  and  sliding  this  way 
and  back,  like  a  big  Basswood  leaf,  till 
she  dropped  on  a  mossy  bank,  and  there 
she  sat  very  still,  holding  her  little  finger 
where  a  Berry-brier  had  scratched  it,  and 
gazing  through  her  black  hair,  back  to  the 
sky,  with  a  sad  and  wistful  look. 

When  the  little  Rumor  asked  her 
whence  she  came,  she  made  no  answer, 
but  gazed  up  at  the  sky,  and  a  tear  stood 
in  her  eye. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


The  little  Rumor  was  quite  touched 
by  her  silent  sorrow.  He  was  easily 
touched,  though  never  deeply,  and  he 
flew  off  to  tell  somebody,  anybody,  how 
deep  his  feelings  were. 

He  had  scarcely  taken  wing  when 
the  Birch-tree  whispered,  "  What  news, 
what  news,  little  Tittle-tattle  ?" 

"  Oh,  such  a  sad  case ! '"  answered 
the  Rumor,  and  his  long  tongue  shot  out 
like  a  snake's.  "A  beautiful  child  of  the 
stars  has  fallen  down  here  and  sits  now 
silent,  dumb  with  sorrow,  on  a  bank, 
and  her  finger  is  bleeding  frightfully." 
'  What,  all  about  a  scratched  finger  ? 
She  must  be  seriously  hurt,  probably 
wounded  elsewhere." 

'  Yes,  that  's  so ;  it  did  seem  more 
serious  than  a  scratched  finger.  I  dare 
say  she  has  many  wounds." 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


"Oh,  this  is  most  interesting!"  said 
the  Birch,  as  the  Rumor  prepared  to  flit. 
'  Won't  you  have  some  refreshment  ? 
You  '11  find  a  lot  of  half-ripe  facts  on  my 
lower  branches,  and  under  those  fallen 
leaves  are  heaps  of  juicy  innuendos." 

And  as  the  Rumor  was  enjoying  his 
favorite  food,  the  Balsam  called,  "  What 
news,  what  news,  Bat  wing  ?  " 

He  answered  the  Balsam,  "  Oh,  such 
a  sad  case  !  A  beautiful  maiden  covered 
with  wounds  and  weeping  her  eyes  out." 

'*  Oh,  dear!     Has  she  no  friends  ?  " 

But  the  Rumor  swallowed  a  couple 
of  the  green  facts,  and  flew  off  mumbling 
an  innuendo. 

The  sun  was  down  now,  and  when  the 
Rumor   came  back  to    the 
Star-girl  she  was  sitting  cold  / 
and  miserable  on  the  bank/' 

i 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


'  Would  that  I  had  a  red  light  from 
that  star ;  then  should  I  be  warm  again," 
was  all  she  said  in  answer  to  the  Rumor, 
and  away  went  the  Winged  One  zigzag, 
—  he  never  flew  straight, —  but  the  Birch- 
tree  caught  sight  of  him  and  called  : 
"  Ho,  Little  Long-tongue,  what 


news : 

« 


Starving  and  freezing,  she,  the  Star- 
girl,  nearly  frozen,  crying  for  red  star- 

light." 

"  Ah,  poor  thing !  "  said  the  Balsam. 
"  I  will  give  her  two  of  my  limbs,  which 
will  make  the  red  starlight  if  she  sings 
the  wind-song  and  rubs  them  as  the 
wind  rubs.  I  know,  for  I  am  a  Medi 
cine-tree." 

"  Little  use  your  red  starlight  would 
be,"  sneered  the  Birch,  for  she  was  not 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


friendly  with  the  Balsam  and  felt  that 
hers  was  the  claim  of  '  first  finder." 
"  I  '11  give  her  the  magic  fringe  of  my 
robe,  which  will  magnify  the  starlight 
into  sunlight." 

*  Pah !  Her  fringe,  a  mere  puff  of 
dust !  If  she  wants  warmth,  let  her  add 
a  few  of  my  cone- jewels  to  the  red  light, 
then  she  '11  see  sparkling  blazes." 

So  away  went  the  Rumor  to  the  Star- 
girl. 

She  rubbed  the  Balsam  sticks  till  a 
little  red  star  came  forth,  then  she  put 
in  the  Birch  fringe,  and  it  blazed;  she 
added  the  Balsam  cones,  and  had  a 
warm  fire. 

'  But  the  wind  was  cold  on  her  back, 
and  her  wound  was  sore"  -  so  the  little 
Rumor  told  the  Balsam  and  the  Birch  in 


WOODMYTH  &   FABLE 


r 

I  158 


the  morning.    The  first 
for  her  wounds,       $$ 
gave  her  a  robe      ^ 
warn.  ^ 

*  Take    my 
her    a    soft 
Balsam,     in 

"I    will  * 

dishes      and    § 
canoe  to  ride 
home.  I  will 
robe,  so  she 
in  the  woods 
in  winter   I 
boughs  with 
brown  warn-      V^g 
the  Birch. 

And  be- 
sam  could 
thing  else  to 


sr^j?«c 


gave  her  Balsam 
and  the  Birch 
to  make  a  wig- 
boughs  to  make 
bed,"  said  the 
triumph, 
"give    her   also 
jfsugar    and     a 
in,  as  well  as  a 
wear  a  white 
can     find    me 
in  summer,  and 
will  hang  my 
beads         of 
pum,"    said 

fore  the  Bal- 
think  of  any- 
say  the  Ru- 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


mor  went  zigzag  through  the  woods  to 
the  Star-girl.  But  he  was  a  little  liar  ;  his 
tongue  was  forked  and  his  flight  was 
crooked.  He  could  not  tell  the  truth,  so 
he  said,  "  See  what  I  bring  you  from  my 
grandmother."  .  [\  f>  /_ 

'Tell  your       ^pC         good 
grandmother,  r       \{ff?»  whoever 

she  is,  "said  the  *<V  ,  _.£j  .—  .  Star-girl, 
;<  I  thank  her.  fc^^T  There  is 


little  I  can  do  JV  /J  A  further, 
but  the  Thun-  *H[  der-bird 

is  my  brother,  4  and  I   shall  beg 

him  not  to  strike  the  [  one  that  warmed 
me  when  I  was  *&  cold  and  gave  me 
so  many  good  *j  things." 

So  to  this  ;  |l  day  they  dispute 
betweenthem-  \^5  selves,  the  Birch 
and  the  Bal-  i1  3  sam  Fir,  as  to 
which  is  the  /  r*.  blessed  tree  of 


i6o 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


the  Star-girl ;  their  descendants  still  give 
the  race  of  the  Star-girl  their  ancient  gifts: 
the  Balsam  sticks  that  the  Indian  uses  to 
start  his  rubbing-stick  fire,  the  shreds  of 
Birch  bark  that  make  the  best  of  tinder, 
the  bed  of  Balsam  boughs  and  the  heal 
ing  Balsam  gum,  the  Birch-bark  wigwam 
and  canoe.  And  the  Thunder-bird,  not 
knowing  which  to  strike,  lets  both  alone. 
The  Pine,  the  Oak,  and  the  Ash  he 
splinters  in  every  storm,  but  the  Birch 
and  the  Balsam  stand  unharmed ;  they 
never  have  been  struck. 

How  do  I  know  these  things,  O  Sha- 
ka-skanda-wayo  ?  Verily,  I  have  them  on 
authority  you  will  scarcely  deny — the 
same  being  the  source  of  nearly  all  his 
tory.  Behold,  I  got  them  from  a  little 
idle  Rumor. 

MORAL :  The  Great  Spirit  can  draiv  a 
straight  line  'Ifoith  a  crooked  stick. 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


THE  WENDIGO 

WINTER  DEATH 

the  pine  woods  of  Keewaydin, 
Over  the  snows  of  Shebandowan, 
The  Wendigo  roams  in  the  winter's  frost 
And  pursues  to  destruction  the  hunter. 
Yet  no  man  can  meet  with  the  Wendigo, 
No  man  can  face  him  or  see  him ; 
Only  his  track  in  the  snow  is  seen, 
And  lost  is  the  hunter  that  sees  it. 
For,  early  or  late,  ere  the  change  of  the  moon, 
His  place  in  the  wigwam  is  empty, 
And  none  ever  knows  where  he  goeth, 
Only  this  —  that  he  had  the  weird  warning, 
The  huge  human  track  in  the  deep-lying  snow 
Leading  on  when  the  pathway  was  hidden ; 
And  this  —  that  his  wigwam  is  empty. 
But  no  man  will  speak  of  the  demon ; 
The  heart  that  ne'er  quailed  on  the  war-path 
Turns  to  stone  at  the  name  of  the  Wendigo. 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


162 


THE  SAVING  WARMTH 

PARTY  of  Northern  ex 
plorers  were  lost  and  dying 
of  cold,  when  they  came 
on  an  Indian  camp-ground 
that  had  been  abandoned  shortly  before. 
These  Indians  had  scattered  the  remain 
ing  brands  of  their  fire.  Each  shivering 
explorer  now  sat  down  to  warm  himself 
at  the  particular  brand  he  had  secured, 
because  they  were  of  the  true  faith — they 
believed  in  the  individual  and  in  decen 
tralization.  But  in  spite  of  their  shivering 
efforts  the  brands  were  dying  and  the  men 
likely  to  do  the  same,  when  one  man  who 
had  not  been  trained  in  any  school  of 
political  economy,  but  was  willing  to  stand 
by  results,  persuaded  them  to  pile  all  their 
brands  in  one  spot.  The  result  was  a 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


good  fire  and  salvation  for  the  party; 
though  some  of  them  continued  to  the 
end  of  their  days  to  denounce  that  man 
as  an  idiot  and  the  principle  as  dan 
gerous. 

MORAL :   The  Sun  <would  die  in  a  day 
if  scattered  enough. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  MYTH  OF  THE 
SONG-SPARROW 

IS  mother  was  the  Brook  and  his  sisters 

were  the  Reeds, 
And  every  one  applauded  when  he  sang  about 

his  deeds. 
His  vest  was  white,  his  mantle  brown,  as  clear 

as  they  could  be, 
And  his  songs  were  fairly  bubbling  o'er  with 

melody  and  glee. 
But  an  envious  Neighbor  splashed  with  mud  our 

Brownie's  coat  and  vest, 
And  then  a  final  handful  threw  that  stuck  upon 

his  breast. 
The  Brook-bird's  mother  did  her  best  to  wash 

the  stains  away; 
But  there  they  stuck,  and,  as  it  seems,  are  very 

like  to  stay. 
And  so  he  wears  the  splashes  and  the  mud 

blotch,  as  you  see; 
But  his  songs  are  bubbling  over  still  with  melody 

and  glee. 


Or-' 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


i66 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  PACK-RAT 

^  WAY  in   the   mountain  re 
gion  of  the  West  is  a  little 

animal  called  a  Pack-rat. 

"Pack"  is  Rocky  Moun 
tain  for  "carry,"  and  this  Rat  obtains  its 
name  on  account  of  its  mania  for  carry 
ing  off  to  its  hole  any  odd  or  striking 
object  that  may  fall  in  its  path. 

Each  Pack-rat's  home  is  in  the  mid 
dle  of  a  vast  accumulation  of  useless  odds 
and  ends,  such  as  pine-cones,  white  peb 
bles,  and  bones  and  skulls  of  small  ani 
mals.  Even  crabs'  claws  from  remote 
waters  find  their  way  to  the  pile,  and 
cast-off  snake-skins  are  esteemed  particu 
larly  precious.  If  a  hunters'  camp  is  near 
by,  the  Pack-rat  often  finds  opportunity 


K,  . 

Jii 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


for  securing  specimens  of  leather  straps, 
old  cartridges,  tobacco  stamps,  pipes,  etc., 
which  it  steals  when  the  men  are  asleep. 
None  of  the  objects,  of  course,  is  of  the 
slightest  use  to  the  animal.  Simply  he 
likes  them.  He  goes  on  adding  to  his 
heap  of  rubbish  till  it  is  perhaps  four  or 
five  feet  high  and  eight  or  ten  feet  across. 
There  on  the  top,  in  sunny  weather,  sits 
the  diminutive  collector, — not  so  large  as 
a  House-rat, — gloating  over  his  posses 
sions.  He  turns  them  over  so  that  the 
sun  will  strike  them  better,  and  enjoys 
them,  but  worries  his  little  life  out  night 
and  day  lest  some  other  Rat  should  steal 
from  his  pile. 

The  larger  the  pile,  the  more  pleasure 
and  the  more  worry  he  finds  in  it,  for  it 
lets  all  the  world  of  enemies  know  just 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


where  he  lives,  and  often  draws  on  him 
the  vengeance  of  hunters  whose  valuables 
he  has  pilfered. 

Also,  the  country  he  lives  in  is  subject 
to  both  fire  and  flood,  and  on  the  ap 
proach  of  either  destructive  element  the 
poor  Pack-rat  is  in  a  terrible  state.  He 
wishes  to  move  his  treasures,  and  tries  to 
secure  the  help  of  his  neighbors;  all, 
however,  are  busily  engaged  with  their 
bibelots.  He  rushes  frantically  about, 
endeavoring  to  take  to  some  place  of 
safety  his  rarest  acquisitions — that  door 
knob  which  he  was  three  long  nights  in 
carrying  from  the  ranch-house,  that  piece 
of  green  soap,  or  that  set  of  false  teeth 
stolen  from  the  passing  picnic  party;  then 
he  is  horrified  at  the  idea  of  leaving  these 
valuables  while  he  returns  for  more.  Fi 
nally  he  becomes  so  bewildered  by  terror 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


for  himself  and  anxiety  for  his  museum 
that  he  carries  back  the  treasures  which 
he  has  removed,  and,  accidentally,  per 
haps,  perishes  with  them,  while  the  com 
mon,  sordid  Rats  of  the  neighborhood, 
with  no  property  but  the  fur  on  their 
backs,  and  with  no  ideas  beyond  the  get 
ting  of  a  living,  escape  without  difficulty 
to  a  place  of  safety. 

MORAL:    Enough  is  wealth,  more  is 
disease. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


THE  HUNTERS 

C  j   HE  White  Owl  sits  on  a  low  snow-drift, 
JL        Away  from  the  Hunter's  hounds, 
And  longs  and  waits  for  the  latch  to  lift 
When  the  Trapper  shall  go  his  rounds. 

O'er  the  rolling  prairie  see  him  run, 

As  he  reads  on  the  snow-page  fair: 
Here  is  the  neat,  straight  trail  of  the  Fox; 

Here  are  the  bounds  of  the  Hare; 
Here 's  where  the  Fox  found  the  Hare  track  fresh, 

And  see!  was  pursuing  him  there! 
Just  think  of  the  meeting  those  trailers  will  have 

When  one  track  replaces  the  pair! 


WOODMYTH   &  FABLE 


Now  here  are  the  chains  of  the  Grouse's  trail; 

They  turn  and  they  wind  about  ; 
And  the  Hunter  crawls  till  the  flock  is  sprung 

And  whirs  from  a  snow-drift  out, 
Save  two,  which  fall  at  the  roar  of  the  gun 

And  redden  the  dazzling  snow.  fjf. 

(Still  keeps  the  Owl  his  distance  safe, 


- 
"/  "? 


But  follows,  now  fast,  now  slow. ) 

x*    ^ 


•*  "7\ 

And  here  was  the  place  of  a  poisoned  bait,       >;-'">r  ' 


Where  naught  but  its  print  now  lies, 
For  a  Wolf  has  traced  it  up  the  wind        'Y"    '•* 

And  swallowed  the  tempting  prize.  ••* 

Here  't  was  griping  his  vitals  and  choking  his 
breath— 

That  wolfskin  is  taken  at  last! 
See!  but  a  few  steps,  then  he  staggered  and  fell, 

And  writhed  as  his  life  went  fast. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


There  he  arose  and  he  struggled  anew, 

And  staggered  again? — but  no! 
The  strength  that  is  born  of  his  wild,  free  life 

Has  conquered  this  deadly  foe; 
And  the  steps  of  the  Wolf  grow  steady  and  strong 

Till  he  's  spurning  the  prairie  again. 
(Still  the  White  Owl,  following  far  behind, 

Winnows  low  o'er  the  distant  plain.) 

Now  this  is  the  place  of  another  bait, 

With  Fox  tracks  here  and  there: 
Both  bait  and  Fox  are  gone,  and  the  tracks 

The  power  of  the  poison  declare. 
Still  he  follows  and  scans  as  he  onward  runs; 

But  see!  by  the  bushes  ahead 
There  's  a  yellow  fur — 't  is  the  Fox  himself: 

In  the  snow  he  lies  stark  and  dead! 

(From  a  neighboring  tree,  the  Owl's  great  eyes 

Take  in  the  scene  below; 
And  he  bides  till  the  carrion  furless  lies, 
And  waits  till  the  Hunter  takes  up  his  prize 

And  takes  up  his  gun  to  go. 
This  is  the  chance  that  the  Owl  foresaw 

When  he  followed  afar  on  the  snow.) 


N 

173  / 


THE  GREAT  STAG 


"n 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 
THE  GREAT  STAG1 

E  all  know  him  well;  his 
existence  is  established 
now  as  surely  as  that  of 
the  sea-serpent  or  the  big 
fish  that  got  off  the  hook — even  better, 
for  many  of  us  have  seen  him  in  broad 
daylight  and  had  a  fair  open  view  of  his 
noble  form.  And  what  a  creature  he  is, 
what  a  paragon  of  size  and  develop 
ment!  One  observer,  who  had  an  ex 
ceptionally  good  look  at  him,  counted 
twenty-seven  tines  on  each  antler.  And 
such  antlers !  absolutely  symmetrical  and 
perfect,  in  every  way  befitting  his  im 
mense  stature  and  noble  beauty.  I  am 
sure  it  cannot  be  that  he  shed  them 
above  once  in  twenty  years,  if  at  all. 
Another  equally  reliable  historian  asserts 

1  Copyright,  1891 ,  by  Forest  and  Stream  Publishing  Company. 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


that  this  woodland  Kraken  has  three 
antlers,  the  third  a  spike  in  the  center. 
So  far  all  is  abundantly  attested,  but 
I  must  say  that  I  place  but  little  faith 
in  that  story  of  a  chaplet  of  pearls 
about  his  brow;  it  is  simply  the  knotted 
bead-like  antler-burrs,  white  and  pol 
ished,  and  glistening  perhaps  with  the 
morning  dew;  while  the  crucifix  in  the 
middle,  that  has  been  reported,  is  noth 
ing  more  than  the  spike-horn  above 
referred  to. 

I  expect  to  learn  some  day  that  he 
casts  no  shadow,  for  this  I  certainly  know, 
that  oftentimes  he  leaves  no  track  behind 
him  in  the  snow.  His  speed,  too,  is  mar 
velous;  it  is  as  the  wind.  He  seems — 
nay,  he  actually  is — ubiquitous.  Why!  I 
first  met  him  in  the  woods  of  Ontario; 
then,  shortly  afterward,  I  encountered  his 
scornful  gaze  amid  the  sand-hills  of 


Or" 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Manitoba.  I  have  heard  for  certain  of 
his  having  been  seen  in  the  cane-brakes  of 
Kentucky  and  amid  the  valleys  of  Cali 
fornia.  Even  in  England  he  was  well 
known  till  quite  lately,  and  bore  the  name 
of  "The  White  Hart  Royal,"  and  in 
Scotland  he  is  still  famous  as  'The 
Muckle  Hart  of  Ben  More."  Nay,  more 
than  all  this,  St.  Hubert  himself  was 
blessed  with  a  sight  of  the  tri-cerate  head, 
in  the  forests  of  Germany,  and  he,  in  fact, 
is  responsible  for  that  story  of  the  central 
crucifix.  The  great  Miinchhausen,  too, 
has  much  to  say  about  this  noblest  of 
deer,  and  what  need  have  we  of  further 
witness? 

But  it  matters  little  where  he  dwells ; 
no  human  hand  has  ever  touched  his 
glossy  coat.  He  seems  endowed  with  a 
charmed  life ;  no  bullet  cast  of  lead  can 
ever  reach  him.  Of  course  a  ball  of  sil- 


^ 

I  <73 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE  <~ 


ver  might;  I  have  never  tried  that,  and  I 
do  not  remember  that  any  Croesus  ever 
went  about  riddling  innumerable  bushes 
with  costly  projectiles  in  hopes  of  secur 
ing  the  Great  Stag.  I  doubt,  too,  that 
he  would  have  succeeded ;  indeed,  I  feel 
sure  that  no  hunter  armed  with  such  in 
fallible  missiles  will  ever  meet  with  St. 
Hubert's  Hart.  He  is  too  sagacious  to 
allow  it,  or,  if  he  did,  he  would  not  long 
remain  in  sight ;  he  would  simply  show 
himself  and  snort  and  stamp — I  know  it, 
for  I  have  watched  him — then  fade 
away,  like  the  Cat  in  Wonderland,  the 
scornful  gaze  being  the  last  thing  to  van 
ish  into  thin  air.  He  leaves  a  good 
track  for  a  little  while,  but  this,  too,  fades 
away  completely.  Once  I  followed  it 
for  miles,  but  it  disappeared  at  last  in  a 
thickly  grown  bottom-land,  and  no  doubt 
the  phantom  buck  himself  had  vanished 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


at  the  selfsame  place.  An  Indian  who 
was  hunting  with  me  thought  otherwise, 
and  persisted  in  circling  off  in  another  di 
rection,  so  that  we  parted ;  but  he  was  a 
fool,  and  when  after  two  or  three  hours  he 
came  again  to  camp,  bringing  with  him 
an  ordinary  buck,  I  could  not  but  smile 
to  see  how  completely  he  had  been  baffled. 
It  has  never  been  decided  even  of 
what  species  he  is;  some  testimony  points 
one  way  and  some  in  another.  For  my 
own  part,  I  do  not  believe  that  he  is  a 
species  at  all,  but  a  genus — genus  Cervus; 
nothing  more.  One  recent  writer,  how 
ever,  claims  that  this  was  an  elk,  and  was 
known  for  long  in  Pennsylvania  as  "The 
Lone  Elk  of  the  Sinnamahoning,"  in 
which  valley  he  was  killed  in  1867. 
But  that,  of  course,  is  all  nonsense.  No, 
no!  I  know  too  much  about  him  to  be 
lieve  any  such  tale.  You  cannot  wreck 


WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


the  Flying  Dutchman;  he  still  will  sail 
under  great  billowy  clouds  of  canvas,  till 
the  last  trump  blows  and  the  Kraken 
lashes  all  the  sea  to  foam,  and,  belly  up 
ward,  floats  to  show  the  end  has  come. 
No,  no !  Still  he  roams  and  bounds 
from  hill  to  hill,  as  I  have  seen  and  yet 
may  see  again  -  -  yea,  even  now  do  see  in 
fancy's  eye  along  my  glistening  rifle-bar 
rel.  Again  I  see  that  glorious  head  against 
the  sky,  as  often  I  did  —  more  often  in 
early  days  than  now,  for  he  appears  most 
often  to  the  tyro  in  the  woods  —  see  him 
give  one  great  bound  when  cracks  the 
ready  rifle,  and  know  from  the  miraculous 
way  in  which  the  unerring  ball  was  turned 
aside  that  this  was  indeed  the  Mighty 
Stag  again,  the  Spirit  of  the  Race,  and 
that  no  bullet  cast  of  lead  can  ever  graze 
his  hide --and  again  he  fades  away. 


is, ; 

WOODMYTH  &  FABLE 


Long  may  he  roam  and  spurn  the  hill 
tops  with  his  flying  feet  and  dash  the  dew- 
drops  from  the  highest  pine-tops  as  he 
clears  the  valley  at  a  bound ;  long  may 
he  live  and  tempt  a  hail  of  harmless  lead. 
But  the  rattle  of  repeaters  is  heard  in 
every  valley  now  ;  the  wise  are  more  and 
more  often  propounding  that  unfathom 
able  riddle,  "  Where  have  all  the  Deer 
gone?"  and  when  at  length  the  last  re 
mainder  of  the  common  race  is  slain,  I 
know  too  well  that  this,  the  immortal, 
too  will  die ;  that  though  he  never  can  be 
touched  by  death,  he  yet  will  perish - 
perish  like  the  last  surviving  Cambrian 
bard,  not  by  the  hand  of  man,  but  by  a 
strange  engulfment  so  complete  that  not 
a  trace  of  him  will  e'er  be  seen  again  and 
but  a  fading  memory  of  his  ever  having 
been. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


APR  5  -  1966  4  4 

REC'D  LD 

MAR2V66-&PM 


SEP    2  1961 


LD  21-100m-9,'47(A5702sl6)476 


Seton 


^on.  £«•   *i» 
-loodmyth  !&  fable 


yoo 

S495 

woo 


M95642 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


